


In from the Cold

by Psi_Fi



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Medically inaccurate, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-05-04 05:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 25,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psi_Fi/pseuds/Psi_Fi
Summary: The mayor finds Glanni in the cold and takes pity on him.





	1. Prologue: Winter...Fun?

**Author's Note:**

> Since Glanni Glæpur í Latabæ never gave the Mayor a name, I decided to name him Mikkel Mikkelsson. 
> 
> I'm almost finished with this story. To motivate myself, I'm going to post one chapter a day. Hopefully, I'll do that every day, until the story ends. :D 
> 
> The chapters are very uneven in length, just saying.

Glanni slouched against one of the pillars that decorated the town hall. He made sure no one was watching, then gave a great stretch, bending his back in a strong arch. Ípróttálfurrin and the children were in the center of the town square, playing and exercising. Currently, the blasted elf was teaching the children how to throw a snowball. 

"Oh, of all the..." Glanni mumbled, then stomped over to them, glaring. "HEY! What are you doing?!" 

Ípróttálfurrin tossed a snowball at Glanni, who reared back. Fortunately, Ípróttálfurrin hadn't thrown hard at all, because Glanni was hit square in the chest. The children giggled, earning a sharp glare and a frown from the criminal. 

"You're supposed to catch it, Glanni!" Siggi offered. "Like this!"

Siggi held his hands in the proper position for catching a baseball and the other children copied him. 

"I don't want to catch it!" Glanni scolded. 

"How about I teach you how to throw one?" Ípróttálfurrin offered.

"NO!" 

"Why did you come over, if you don't want to play?" Solla asked, confused. 

"To tell the elf how stupid he is!" Glanni said disdainfully. "You've been having snowball fights for weeks now and he keeps re-teaching you how to throw! I mean, why?! You don't seem to be that bad at it." 

"I'm teaching them baseball throws," Ípróttálfurrin corrected.

"Ípróttálfurrin can pack a snowball so it weighs just as much as a real baseball!" Halla boasted.

"You should still only need to learn that once!"

"There are different types of throws, Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin scolded. "Saturday, I taught them how to throw slow balls. Today we are learning curveballs. Now! It is your turn!"

"No, no, no, no, no!" Glanni whined, backing away, his hands held up defensively. 

"It's fun, Glanni!" Siggi assured him. 

Glanni paused. No words of disgust seemed strong enough. The disgust increased, when the area was filled with barking. Spinning around, Glanni saw five Icelandic sheepdog pups, running towards him and the children. Glanni glared, bewildered, as the children laughed, each trying to get the pups' attention. Unfortunately, the pups ignored the children, heading straight for Glanni and Ípróttálfurrin. 

"NO!" Glanni meowed, jumping straight into Ípróttálfurrin's arms and clinging tight to his neck.

"Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin said sternly. "Get down." 

"What?!" Glanni shouted, staring in horror, as the pups milled around Ípróttálfurrin's legs. "You're the hero! Aren't you supposed to save people? Or doesn't that include me?"

"Of course that includes you," Ípróttálfurrin assured him. "I promise to save you...when and _if_ you are ever in danger." 

"Don't you dare put me down!" Glanni said, furious. "You can't just feed me to those things!" 

"Glanni, they're puppies," Halla scolded, picking one up and receiving puppy kisses across her nose, making her giggle. "They're harmless!" 

"They are NOT! They are DOGS, you absurd girl!" Glanni declared, shivering. 

"Children, pick them up. Glanni, you shouldn't fear them, just because they are dogs. Dogs can be wonderful creatures," Ípróttálfurrin said. 

One of the puppies, with mottled white and brown fur, dodged the children and came back to Ípróttálfurrin, wagging its tail. The puppy looked up at Glanni and gave a friendly bark. Glanni cringed, clinging tightly to Ípróttálfurrin's shoulders. 

"Glanni, the puppy wants to be friends," Ípróttálfurrin explained. 

"It's a trick," Glanni said, darkly, refusing to look at the puppy. 

Siggi gently picked the puppy up, stroking his ears and getting licks on his face. As Siggi laughed, Glanni turned and blew a raspberry at him. Losing patience, Ípróttálfurrin dropped Glanni onto the ground. 

"You're setting a bad example for the children," Ípróttálfurrin said, a bit of anger in his voice, as Glanni, grumbling, picked himself up out of the snow, brushing the clinging moisture from his coat. "Now. The puppies are being held. They won't harm you. SO! Try to pet one." 

"HA! Never. If you want to trust those furry piranhas, you go ahead!" Glanni huffed, turning and stalking away, his back straight and head held high. 

Ípróttálfurrin watched him go, sighing slightly. It was too early to give up. There had to be more than a lust for money and sugar in the man. Ípróttálfurrin could and would be patient. It wasn't his strong suit, no, but he would do it.


	2. Boy Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni has troubles with his lungs and his landlord. The mayor wants to help.

Mayor Mikkel Mikkelsson trudged through the snow on the sidewalk, reminding himself to get sweepers out tomorrow to clear the paths in town. The snow was persistent and the air was icy and sharp. Shivering, Mikkel pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Fortunately, his neat and warm home was only a couple of blocks from the Town Hall. It wasn't the most pleasant walk, on a dark, winter's evening. Still, it gave him some exercise. A hot cup of tea would set him right, soon enough. That welcome thought was interrupted by a harsh, hacking sound, coming from down the street. Turning, Mikkel saw Glanni Glæpur, sitting on a bench and coughing painfully. He looked cold, despite his long, black wool coat.

"Glæpur?" Mikkel questioned. "What are you doing out in the cold?" 

Glanni lifted his head, frowning petulantly. 

"I"m trying to get rid of a lung." 

"You should go home and stay warm!" 

"Yes, thank you! I'll do just that," Glanni agreed with exaggerated cheer, before hissing, "Oh wait! _No, I won't because some idiot rented my rooms out to someone else!_ " 

The small fit of anger exhausted Glanni and he collapsed back onto the bench, huffing. 

"Yes, George complained that you were behind on your rent," Mikkel remembered, feeling an unwanted twinge of sympathy for the young man. "He wanted Obtuse to evict you, but then you left." 

"I was gone two days," Glanni pouted. "I have the money ready now! Why couldn't he wait?"

"Well, you'll just have to stay somewhere else," Mikkel advised, earning a contemptuous glare. 

"I've tried! No one wants to rent to me. They act like I'll sneak out without paying." 

"Well, that's what you did to George." 

"I HAVE THE MONEY IN MY POCKETS!" Glanni shouted, then groaned as his lungs rebelled, going into another coughing fit. He took a couple of long, shallow breaths, then continued, "Go away and let me die in peace." 

Mikkel bit his lips, looking down at the town's most persistent criminal. Glanni was always pale, but not so sheet white. Mikkel didn't like the shivers that wracked his thin frame. Sighing, Mikkel made a beckoning motion with his hand. 

"Come. I'll give you a room to sleep in."

"I'd rather die, than just let you lead me into a cell." 

"I'm not taking you to jail!" Mikkel scolded, though trying to keep his tone gentle. "I'll let you stay at my house for a night or two, until you find somewhere else." 

Glanni responded with petulance, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"I don't need help. I'll be fine. I've survived worse." 

"Don't be ridiculous. You're ill and it's freezing out here!" 

"I am not," Glanni said, shortly, looking away. "Anyways, I'm too tired to walk right now. I'm going to rest a bit, before finding a place to sleep."

"Mayor! Is everything all right?" Ípróttálfurrin announced, doing a flip and landing right next to Glanni. 

"YEEEP!" 

Glanni pulled away from Ípróttálfurrin hard, falling off of the bench and into the snow. Shaking his head, Ípróttálfurrin grabbed Glanni by the shoulders and picked him up, placing him back on the bench. Glanni growled angrily at him, sneering. 

"Why did you flinch? You knew it was me and I would not harm you!" Ípróttálfurrin said, cheekily. 

"Because you're loud, Sportacow! What are you doing here?" 

"I'm seeing if the mayor needs help."

"Yes, Ípróttálfurrin, I do. Glæpur isn't well and I need you to help me get him to my house." 

"Oh, no, no, no!" Glanni squeaked. "You keep the muscle-bound tornado away from me!" 

"Are you sure you want him in your house, Mayor? I could..."

"No! It's too cold for him to be in a balloon or outside and he isn't under arrest. No. My house is the best option. You can always stop by and keep an eye on him." 

"No, he can't, because I'm not going!" 

"You said you were too tired to walk and it's too cold for you to stay out here!" Mikkel persisted. 

"I'll take him there, but we can't make him stay," Ípróttálfurrin warned. 

"Yes, yes, that will do. I'll go ahead and start making some hot tea," Milford agreed, rushing off, more quickly than Glanni would have thought possible. 

"Can you walk?" Ípróttálfurrin asked, when Mikkel was out of sight, hoping to spare Glanni a bit of embarrassment. 

"I can, but I won't," Glanni said, crossing his arms over his chest in a sulk.

"Very well." 

Despite Glanni's squirming, Ípróttálfurrin lifted him easily, in a bridal-style hold. 

"You're warmer than you should be," Ípróttálfurrin said, irritation turning to concern.

"You're stupider than you should be," Glanni snarled weakly, his brows lowered menacingly over his eyes.

Ípróttálfurrin almost laughed, starting to walk. 

"I think the Mayor is right. You need to stay inside."

"This is all George's fault."

"You could take responsibility. Landlords need to be paid, so they can pay their own bills." 

"Yes, thank you, I know how that works." 

"Oh? You've had a job before?" Ípróttálfurrin asked, wondering what Glanni had done in the past, but Glanni stared at him in horror.

"Certainly not! Who would hire me? And, why would I let them??" 

"Honest work is good for you!"

"That's reason enough to avoid it," Glanni muttered, as Ípróttálfurrin reached Mikkel's house, his strong legs covering the distance swiftly. 

"That's a terrible attitude," Ípróttálfurrin said, severely. "Now, you behave for the Mayor. I'll be checking to be sure that you do." 

"You can't threaten me. Bringing me here is practically kidnapping!" 

"It wasn't a threat," Ípróttálfurrin soothed, knocking on the door. 

It opened almost immediately, showing Mikkel still wearing his coat. 

"Ah, I just put on the kettle. For now, can you put him on the couch in the living room?" 

"I can walk!" 

"Yes, but will you go where you're supposed to?" Ípróttálfurrin asked, skeptically, stepping inside.

Glanni started to make a rude comment, but stopped, as the warmth of the house wrapped around him like a blanket. He'd been so cold! His shivering eased almost immediately and he gave an involuntary sigh. It was hard not to relax too much and risk easing into Ípróttálfurrin's arms. Glanni couldn't do it. He couldn't force himself back outside. 

"Yes," he sighed. "I'll stay." 

"That's sensible," Ípróttálfurrin praised, setting Glanni down.

"Don't call me that!" Glanni protested, coughing. "Keep your goody-good stuff to yourself." 

Ípróttálfurrin guided Glanni into the living room. He removed his coat, then settled down on the sofa, lounging back against one of the arms. Ípróttálfurrin grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over Glanni, who glared. 

"I'm not a child." 

"No, but you are ill and need to get warm, quickly." 

"Why all the concern? Who made you my keeper?" 

"The mayor is concerned for you and rightfully so. That cough of yours is worrisome."

"I'm not worried," Glanni muttered, pulling the blanket closer, beginning to shiver again.

"You have a fever." 

"You have a weird hat." 

"The water is almost boiling," Mikkel announced, coming into the room. "Are you comfortable, Glæpur?" 

"Well, mostly, except for a certain muscle head looming over me." 

"How long have you been coughing?" Ípróttálfurrin asked. 

"A week," Glanni said, carelessly. 

"I'll get a thermometer. The water should be ready for the tea, by then."

A few minutes later, Mikkel returned with a tray, containing a large teacup, filled with steaming water and a tea bag. A small bowl of sugar sat next to it. Glanni eyed the sugar with delight. He was less happy, when Mikkel held the thermometer out to him. Glanni shook his head.

"Come on! We need to know how bad your fever is," Mikkel coaxed. 

"You just brought me here to torture me," Glanni scoffed, but he placed the thermometer in his mouth, sealing his lips around it and grimacing. 

Mikkel waited the required minutes, then took out the thermometer and tsked sadly.

"One hundred and one point four! You're worse than I thought." 

"I'm worse than everyone thinks," Glanni boasted, taking a lump of sugar and chewing on it with pleasure. 

"That's for your tea and you should limit yourself," Ípróttálfurrin advised.

"I'd tell you what you should do with yourself, but I think it would confuse you." 

"Glæpur!" Mikkel scolded. "We're only trying to help you." 

"Lecturing me isn't helping. I just want my tea and to rest." 

"All right," Mikkel agreed, turning on a lamp that sat on the table next to the sofa. "I'll turn the overhead lights out and you can sleep, when you're ready." 

Ípróttálfurrin followed Mikkel out of the room, leaving Glanni in silence. 

"I'll come back in the morning and check on things."

"I know this may be foolish, but I couldn't just leave him out there." 

"You have a good heart, Mayor! Just...be careful."

"Thank you. I better go check on him." 

Ípróttálfurrin nodded in agreement, promising himself to make sure the mayor's good deed didn't backfire on him.


	3. Disguise Time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus asks Robbie for a favor.

Sportacus knocked on the hatch above Robbie's lair, then stood waiting, his hands on his hips and a nervous smile twitching the corners of his lips. After a few, long moments, the hatch raised and Robbie climbed out, frowning.

"What are you doing, banging on my hatch?" Robbie demanded, suspiciously.

"I need to speak with you," Sportacus said. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"I have them, but why should I give them to you?" Robbie said, looking more confused than anything. "I'm not helping with your health agenda, Sportakook."

"No, no, this has nothing to do with Lazy Town," Sportacus assured him. "Though, I do wish you would listen to some health advice. You would feel so much better!" 

"Whatever. Are you going to explain yourself or should I start guessing?" 

Sportacus rolled his eyes, smiling.

"I need you to teach me how to be a villain." 

Robbie made a huge show of sticking his fingers in his ears and wiggling them around.

"Come again? You want what?!" 

"I need you to teach me how to be a villain!" Sportacus insisted. 

"Why should I...why _would_ you..." Robbie stammered, genuinely surprised. "I'M the villain in Lazy Town! What am I supposed to do, if you take up villainy? Become the hero? BLECH!" 

"Robbie, calm down," Sportacus said, chuckling and shaking his head. "I don't want to become an actual villain. I just need to blend in with the criminals in Mayhem Town for a few days." 

"Blend in?" Robbie asked, intrigued. "You mean...you'll be in _disguise_?" 

"Um. Well, yes, I suppose I will need to make some changes to my appearance," Sportacus agreed, dubiously. 

"Reeaallly," Robbie said, then seemed to reconsider. "Oh, come on! What do you really know about villains? What's the main characteristic of a good villain? Tell me that!"

"Um. Creativity?" 

"Creativity?? That's your best guess?" Robbie said, his teeth clenching in annoyance.

"Well, it's such a big part of what you do!" Sportacus protested. "You're always making disguises, with complete personalities, baking cakes, and inventing amazing things." 

Robbie stopped, thinking that over, then cleared his throat. He couldn't help being a bit flattered. 

"Yes, well, that's because I'm a genius, as _well_ as a villain. Not all villains are so fortunate!" Robbie proclaimed, smugly, then shrugged. "Okay, fine. You need the help and I need a good laugh. Come on down." 

"Thank you, Robbie!" 

Sportacus followed Robbie down into the lair, taking everything in. He gave an amused grin at the fluffy, orange chair and side table. He peered curiously at the lab, where green liquid bubbled in a beaker. Taking a few steps further in, he made note of the clothing in glass tubes. Unfortunately, the disguises displayed were all ones he had seen before. Robbie cleared his throat again, more forcefully, this time. 

"IF you're done gawking! Now, there is more to villainy than meanness and ruthless determination. A villain has to have a goal, even if it's just getting money, while avoiding work. What type of villain are you going to be? A criminal or a mastermind? Someone independent?"

"Uhm. Is there anything in between?" Sportacus asked, uncertain. "I will probably need to speak with both and it'd help, if I could expect to be listened to, at least a little bit."

"Weelll, you could be a right-hand man type, the henchman who gives orders to the ordinary criminal types, but...that's very risky. Usually, they've earned quite a bit of trust, to get in those positions." 

"Oh. Yes, of course." 

"On the other hand, I am myself a famous villain, worldwide. If I went, too, you could pose as my henchman. My little brother hires the Glaumbær gang, sometimes. They wouldn't question me." 

Sportacus looked startled, then suspicious. Robbie just grinned.

"I appreciate any help you give me, but...why would you do that? This sounds like you're setting up a trap." 

"Are you kidding me? I told you: I want to be amused. Frankly, I can't think of anything funnier than _you_ stumbling around trying not to be a cheerful, helpful, flip-flopping elf! I mean, you do realize that you can't get caught helping people, during this?" 

Sportacus sighed, nodding reluctantly.

"Yes, you're right. I have to pretend to...not care," he said, grimly.

"Watching you NOT HELPING will be reward enough!" Robbie said, chuckling. "Watching you do anything VILLAINOUS...oh, that will be soooo much fun...for ME!" 

"I'll have to be sure not to leave any evidence behind," Sportacus said, dryly, knowing full well that Robbie could and probably would try to get him thrown in prison. 

"That's always a good idea," Robbie agreed blithely. 

"Okay, so no helping people. What else do I need to know? Can I still exercise? I don't want to become stiff or lose my energy."

"Sadly, yes, you can exercise, just not so MUCH! I don't think you could stop yourself. If you're going to do this successfully, you have to be somewhat comfortable in your role."

"So, what else?"

"Well, first of all, we have to do something about your clothes. NO henchman of mine is going to dress like a gym teacher! Come here." 

Sportacus followed Robbie over to his glass tubes. Robbie pressed a few buttons on the console next to them and all of the outfits were sucked away. New ones rose from the bottom. The new outfits were all suits in various shades of black and purple, from different decades. 

"Too gloomy. Too roomy," Robbie said, of one with very wide shoulders. "Too groomy. Ahh, just right!"

Robbie looked in approval at a suit done entirely in the deepest black, save for the purple pinstripes that ran up and down the pants and jacket. Sportacus winced a bit, but nodded. 

"That looks like something a villain would wear. It's so dark!"

"Thank you! I designed it myself. Stand there and pull that lever!" 

Sportacus went to the console and pulled hard on the requested lever. He felt something grab him and spin him around. When it was over, he was dressed in the suit and his own clothes, including his hat, were in the tube. Robbie came over frowning, critically.

"Not bad, not bad. Your hair is a mess!" Robbie scolded. "Hat hair, yuck!" 

Sportacus squirmed, as Robbie ran his fingers across Sportacus' scalp, pulling his blond locks into order. Finally, Robbie stepped back, with a decisive nod. 

"Much better! I can't believe you're actually blond! You'll need to shower and wear some mousse, but I don't think the kids would recognize you. And...oooh, so you really ARE an elf!"

"You already knew that. I think I need a hat to go with this. An elf henchman might be a bit suspicious!" 

Robbie studied Sportacus intently for a moment, then nodded with a sigh.

"Yeah. No decent hairdo is going to hide those ears. Drat. All right, all right, I'll dig one up. When do we need to leave?" 

"Tomorrow morning, um, rather early, I'm afraid."

"Fine, fine, be here around, say, one."

"Robbie, I mean, actually early. How about nine?" 

"NINE?! Are you insane? That's practically the middle of the night!" 

"No, it really isn't," Sportacus said, annoyed.

"It is for villain types!" Robbie declared, folding his arms. "The people you want to talk with aren't going to keep your early bird hours, Sportadork." 

"All right. How about we meet halfway and say eleven?" 

"Eleven-thirty?" Robbie countered, almost pleading. 

Sportacus closed his eyes and took a calming breath, then nodded, shrugging.

"All right, Robbie. But, be ready to leave, as soon as I get here!"

'Yes, yes, of course!" Robbie promised, smirking.


	4. Doctor's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mayor brings in a doctor and Ípróttálfurrin lends an unwanted hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ípróttálfurrin does something wrong in this chapter, though he regrets it almost immediately. He forces Glanni to take medicine. I've marked that part and references with ***** at the beginning and end of those sections of the chapter.

Morning light shone bright, but cold, through the window to Milford's living room. Glanni was wrapped tightly in his blankets, his face pressed into the back of the couch, trying to avoid the light. Milford came into the living room and set a tray of food and more hot tea onto the coffee table. 

"Glæpur. Glæpur, wake up!" Mikkel urged. 

"Noooo," Glanni groaned, trying unsuccessfully to burrow deeper into the couch. 

"Come on, now! Breakfast is ready and the doctor will be here soon." 

"DOCTOR?!" 

"Yes, the doctor," Mikkel repeated, exasperated. "You have a fever and a bad cough. You need to see a doctor. Now, come on. Eat your breakfast."

Glanni debated just leaving, but the blanket was soft and he felt so warm and comfortable. He reluctantly sat up, scratching his fingers over his hair, somehow managing to make the short style seem messy. With a frown, he stared in disdain at the breakfast tray. Sliced fruit, toast with _no jelly_ , and two eggs taunted him. 

"You can't expect me to eat that!" Glanni protested.

"What's wrong?" Mikkel asked, confused. "OH! I'm sorry. Are you allergic to something?"

"I am not eating those filthy plants!" Glanni growled. "What? Is this a bread and water thing? There's nothing ON the toast." 

"Oh, there is!" Mikkel explained, far too cheerfully. "There's a bit of butter and some olive oil. Just enough so it won't be so dry. And, I brought you tea to drink, not water." 

"You're trying to starve me." 

"Don't be absurd," Ípróttálfurrin contradicted him, coming into the room. "You're being very ungrateful. That is a perfectly delicious breakfast. You need good food, if you're to get better quickly." 

"It is not! A _delicious_ breakfast is pancakes with lots of syrup or sweet rolls, dripping with cinnamon and icing!" Glanni said, petulantly. 

"That stuff is very bad for you. If you eat this, you'll see how much better you'll feel," Ípróttálfurrin promised. 

"But, I'm _not_ going to eat it!" Glanni assured him, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down in a sulk. 

"Listen, Glæpur," Ípróttálfurrin began, before the doorbell rang.

"Ah, that's the doctor," Mikkel said, relieved. "Ípróttálfurrin, please let him in for me, all right?"

"Yes, but...ah! All right," Ípróttálfurrin conceded, giving Glanni a stern glance, as he left the room. 

"Look, I'll make a deal with you," Mikkel offered. "If you eat the healthy foods I give you, which you do _need_ , then I'll have Stína make you some cakes and treats that you can have after."

Glanni frowned, thinking, looking away from Mikkel. He remembered Stína's cakes, from his time as Rikki Rikki. Just the thought made his mouth water. The thought of eating fruits and vegetables was distressing, yes, yes...well. He was a villain and he could appreciate a good bit of bribery. Maybe, later, he could find a way to only pretend to eat the nasty, dirt-grown things. 

"All right," he sighed, grudgingly, turning to the plate and picking up his fork. "I expect treats at every meal that has plants, though." 

"Yes, yes, just eat, please!" 

"Ahhh, at least you seem to have some appetite," a tall, old man said, a short time later, coming into the room and smiling approvingly. "You must be Glanni Glæpur." 

"Only if I want to be," Glanni countered, frowning. "Who are you?" 

"I'm Doctor Hans Hinriksson, dear boy," the old man said soothingly.

"I'm not your dear anything," Glanni snarled, leaning further away from him. "I don't need you." 

"Well, the mayor seems rather concerned."

"The mayor," Glanni began, but his lungs betrayed him again. He coughed and coughed, turning red in the face. Hinriksson took the opportunity to press a stethoscope to Glanni's back, listening to his heart and lungs.

"That is a nasty cough," Hinriksson said solemnly. 

"He's had it for a week and last night his temperature was a bit above a hundred and one," Ípróttálfurrin informed him.

"Snitch," Glanni snarled. 

"Well, it's a good thing I came..."

"HA!" 

The doctor paused, staring sternly at his patient, before opening the bag he had brought in with him. 

"Well, I have some medicine here for you. More than one person has caught pneumonia in town."

The doctor measured out a couple of pills from a brown bottle and held them out to Glanni. The villain just sneered, shaking his head. 

"Come on, now," Hinriksson coaxed, moving the pills even closer to Glanni's mouth. "You need these to get better.

Glanni lunged forward, attempting to sink his teeth into Hinriksson's hand. Fortunately, Ípróttálfurrin managed to catch the doctor's wrist and pull his hand out of the way, just in time. Hinriksson stared at Glanni in affronted horror. 

"The man's mad!" 

"No, he's just childish and mean," Ípróttálfurrin assured him, ignoring the raspberry Glanni blew at him. "Allow me." 

Hinriksson gave Ípróttálfurrin the pills. 

***** 

 

"Take these," Ípróttálfurrin instructed, firmly. 

Glanni just gave a twisted smile, sealing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. Ípróttálfurrin sighed, then reached out and pinched Glanni's nose shut. Glanni paled, trying to twist away, but the grip on his nose was too tight, making his struggles painful. Within seconds, Glanni was gasping for air and Ípróttálfurrin tossed the pills with annoying accuracy into the back of his mouth. Glanni had to swallow or risk choking. He lay back against the pillows, gasping. 

 

***** 

"Here," Mikkel said, gently, offering Glanni his cup of tea, giving Ípróttálfurrin a stern glance. 

Reluctantly, Glanni accepted the tea, needing the soothing heat on his throat. 

"I am not a child," Glanni said angrily, his voice oddly quiet. "You can't do things like that, just because you think you're right!" 

"I can't let you die of pneumonia, because you don't want to take medicine, either," Ípróttálfurrin retorted, though Glanni could hear guilt in his voice.

"I'm not going to die, you health freak!" Glanni scoffed.

"You could. We almost lost old mister Larsson," Hinriksson argued. "I know you're younger, but this strain seems quite persistent." 

"Pers...ins...you've argued with it?" Glanni asked, confused. 

"Persistent, not insistent. That means it's not going away on its own," Ípróttálfurrin explained, rolling his eyes.

"Kind of like you!" 

"Like me," Ípróttálfurrin agreed, amused.

"Yes, fine. I've eaten your disgusting dirt food and taken pills. Can I just rest now?"

"Of course. Give me a few minutes and I'll have the bed made up in the guest room," Mikkel said. 

"I've done all I can for the time being," Hinriksson said. "Let me know, immediately, if his fever gets any worse. Other than that, he needs rest, good food, and plenty of liquids." 

"He'll get them," Ípróttálfurrin promised. 

Once the mayor and the doctor were gone, Ípróttálfurrin leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched Glanni quietly, making him squirm. 

"What's with you, anyway?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I'm a villain. Aren't you, as a good person and hero, supposed to _want_ bad things to happen to me?" 

"That would make me the opposite of a good person and hero," Ípróttálfurrin said, a bit sadly. "You asked me to protect you once. I told you I would, if you needed it."

"I was surrounded by dogs. I panicked!"

"Ah? But, I meant what I said. That includes protecting you from yourself, if possible."

*****

"So, what? You're going to pinch my nose, every time I have to take medicine?" 

Ípróttálfurrin flinched, sighing sadly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I only want you to get better, but...it has to be your choice. As you said, you're not a child." 

 

*****

"I'm glad you noticed. I still don't get why you want me to get better. I'm your villain, not your best friend." 

"I don't need an excuse to care about you." 

"You're very strange," Glanni grumbled, nestling himself further into his pillows.

"If you say so." 

"There, that didn't take too long," Mikkel said happily, coming back into the room. "Come on, Glanni, and we'll get you more settled in." 

"Mayor," Glanni said, with mild scorn, standing shakily. "More like the town pabbi! Keep clean, eat your veggies, behave! Bah." 

"Those things are for your own good!" Mikkel retorted. "Now, come on! The sooner you're in bed, the sooner I can leave you be and go get some work done." 

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Glanni grumbled, as he was led to the guest room.


	5. To Mayhem Town!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus explains why he's going undercover and Robbie gives him a new identity.

At exactly eleven-thirty, Sportacus, already in his disguise, rapped strongly on Robbie's hatch. Silence answered him. He gave Robbie a few minutes, considering he might be in the bathroom. Sportacus rapped again, his easy patience seeping away, the longer he waited. He knew Robbie must have heard the staccato knocking, the sound echoing down the metal tubes. The third time was not the charm. 

Fed up, Sportacus opened the hatch and let himself down into the lair. Landing lightly, Sportacus immediately spotted Robbie. At any other time, the sight might have been cute, even endearing. Robbie was curled up on his fluffy, orange chair. Rather than his usual outfit, he wore a heavy robe in similar colors, with wide, quilted lapels. A matching nightcap covered his hair. Robbie's eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he dreamed peacefully. He sucked softly on his thumb, his other fingers curled into a loose fist. 

Sportacus was almost touched by the sleepy scene. Almost. 

"Robbie!" he called out sharply, clapping his hands twice. 

The sudden bursts of noise pulled Robbie instantly awake. He gave a frightened yelp, jumping into a sitting position. Too unstable, Robbie capsized, falling head first out of his chair. From the floor, he looked around frantically, finally spotting Sportacus. He cringed, noting that Sportacus had his arms crossed over his chest, unsmiling. The hero rarely looked that stern and it never boded well. 

"Um. Good morning?" 

"Not for much longer," Sportacus replied. "It's past eleven-thirty and you don't look ready to go." 

"Ah. You were serious about that, huh?" 

"Yes, I was. Are you coming or not?" 

"I'm coming, I'm coming, Sportagrouch! I can be ready in five minutes, if you have anything worth eating on that blimp of yours!" 

"I don't have cake, but I'm sure you can find something. Now, hurry!" 

"Yes, yes," Robbie said, hurrying over to his clothing tubes. 

Playing a few quick notes and pulling the right levers, Robbie released his usual outfit, spinning to dress as quickly as possible. Once that was done, he pulled a few more levers and pushed some buttons, until a small suitcase on wheels appeared from an opening to the side. Robbie started to lift the heavy case, but after a few seconds set it back down again, panting slightly. Kicking it, he sent it rolling down the ramp to land at Sportacus' feet. 

"Would you mind getting that for me?" Robbie asked innocently, smiling mischievously. 

Smirking, Sportacus leaned down, maintaining eye contact with Robbie, and easily picked up the case with one hand, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Sure, Robbie," Sportacus said smoothly. "No problem at all." 

"Uh. Yes, thank you," Robbie said, fidgeting slightly. 

"Come on. We have to go now." 

Robbie was relieved to find Sportacus had landed his airship, so Robbie didn't have to climb. Sportacus had even provided a comfortable chair for Robbie to sit in. Easing into it, Robbie gave a huge yawn. 

"So. What are you planning on asking the Mayhem Town criminals?" 

"I guess you do need to know," Sportacus said, sighing. "Some of our crystals, like mine, have been stolen." 

"So a bunch of heroes are going around not knowing when people are in trouble?" Robbie asked. "I might have to rethink things."

"No," Sportacus said, chuckling. "These crystals don't have owners yet." 

"Whatever," Robbie said, rummaging in his suitcase, then pulling out a handful of papers. "Here you go."

"What is this?" 

"Your background history, of course."

"Background history?" Sportacus asked, confused. 

"Were you planning on interrogating criminals, while thinking of yourself as Sportacus?"

"Who else would I think of myself as? I'm only pretending to be a henchman." 

"So? You need to have an idea of who that henchman is, what his motives are, and what type of person he is. Otherwise, you'll make mistakes." 

"Ay yi yi," Sportacus muttered. "All right, let me see what you have."

He took the papers from Robbie and looked over them. His new name, apparently, was to be Sparta Cook, of England. Sportacus rolled his eyes. The insult he could ignore, but not the practical difficulty.

"Really, Robbie? Am I supposed to develop an English accent, by the time we get to Mayhem Town?" 

"No, no, you were _born_ in England, but raised in Iceland. Most criminals wouldn't know the difference. Keep reading!"

"Yes, of course. Personality traits: average intelligence--from you, that's generous. Hm. Good organizer. Punctual. Obedient, ha! Ruthless, mm, okay. I suppose a criminal henchman has to be. Impatient and bad-tempered? Is that necessary?" 

"You're going to be surrounded by criminals. It'll explain your disapproval of everything. Just channel it into wanting everything to go faster."

"But...yes, all right," Sportacus conceded with a sigh. 

"It's not like I haven't done this a hundred times or anything." 

"I'm sure it's only a couple of dozen." 

"That's just what _you've_ seen _so far_ , Sportakook." 

"I look forward to seeing the rest," Sportacus assured him, still skimming his script. "We met, when you saved me from going to prison for smuggling? That doesn't seem very villainous of you." 

"It happens all the time, actually. You knew where to find a sub-atomic resonator 4000 (in Brazil, by the way) and I wanted one. So, I helped you, you helped me, and now I occasionally use you, when I need things done outside of Lazy Town." 

"What do you need done outside of Lazy Town?" Sportacus asked, worried.

"Nothing, but no one really knows that." 

"But, you're well known outside of Lazy Town. I had heard of you, before we met."

"Of course. I'm villain number one! Mainly, other criminals just write me for advice and buy inventions off of me." 

"So, you're the world's first consulting villain?" Sportacus teased, earning a confused glare from Robbie. 

"You babble nonsense, even when you're insulting people. A good insult should make sense, Sportanut!" 

"Haven't you read the Sherlock Holmes stories?" 

"If I want to be irritated by some smarty-smart hero, I'll just spend time around you!"

"Thank you, Robbie!" 

"Ugh, whatever."


	6. Dropping By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni gets visitors.

Glanni just finished shoving the last bit of a cinnamon roll into his mouth, when Mikkel came into his room. 

"Hello, Mayor Pabbi. What can I do for you?" Glanni asked with mock cheer.

"I brought your medicines. Are you up to having visitors?" 

"Visitors? What do you mean, 'visitors?'" 

"I mean there are people wanting to see you." 

"People. What kind of people?" Glanni asked, his black brows nearly forming a v over his nose, trying to frown menacingly.

His persistent cough made him look merely tired and ill. 

"Stolla, Siggi, and Halla want to come up and see you." 

"Those three?! What could they want with me?" 

"Well, they heard you weren't feeling well." 

"Oohhh, so they thought now would be a good time to get revenge!" Glanni said, smirking. "Hahaha! Well, good for them, but it won't work." 

"Don't be silly. They just thought you might like some company, but I'll send them away, if you don't want them up here." 

"No, no, don't do that!" Glanni said, grandly. "Of course I'll see the enterprising little tykes. Far be it from me to discourage good, scheming behavior in the young." 

"Oh," Mikkel said, hesitating, then shrugged, trusting in the children's good natures. "All right. I'll send them up, then." 

"Yes, yes, you do that." 

A few minutes later, the children filed into the room. Siggi sat at the end of the bed, while Solla and Halla sat on chairs the Mayor brought in for them. 

"Wooow, Glanni, you seem tired!" Solla said, sympathetically. 

"Well, it takes a very nasty sort of bug to get the best of me," Glanni explained. 

"We brought you something," Siggi told him, happily. "It's Saturday, after all!" 

"Saturday?"

"Candy Day!" Siggi declared, happily, handing over a small box of chocolates.

"Heh heh! Food actually worth eating and the elf can't object! Thank you, Siggi."

"Sportacus only means to look out for you," Solla said, primly.

"And well he should," Glanni agreed, darkly.

Solla shifted uneasily, so Halla gave her a rough, friendly pat on her back, before turning to Glanni.

"Are you feeling any better, since the mayor found you?"

"No, no! Everything just gets worse and worse. Even eating is difficult!"

"You'll only get weaker, if you don't eat," Solla said, concerned.

"Ha! That's what the bug thinks too." 

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Halla asked eagerly.

"Oh, awful! My lungs are full of sharp pains and I can barely stand, without fainting. My head aches horribly, too," Glanni assured her cheerfully. "In fact, the doctor doesn't like my chances at all." 

"He doesn't?" Siggi squealed, wringing his hands.

"No. I could easily die." 

"How awful!" Solla exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hands.

"In fact, I'd probably already be dead, if I wasn't such a terrible, sly person," Glanni said somberly, half-convinced by his own malarkey.

"Does that help?" Halla asked, amazed.

"Of course, it does! I'm the dreaded Glanni Glaepur. I can certainly outwit a pathetic germ." 

"Ahhhh," the children chorused, nodding wisely.

"What sort of nonsense are you filling their heads with?" Ípróttálfurrin demanded, from the doorway.

"Yeep!" Glanni squeaked, hastily shoving his chocolates behind his pillow. "What are you doing here?!"

"I thought I should check on you, especially since the children were kind enough to visit."

"Ípróttálfurrin, is Glanni really going to die?" Siggi asked nervously.

"No. He's young and being given excellent care." 

"Yes, yes, as I said, a mere germ isn't clever enough to defeat me." 

"But, you said the doctor wasn't happy," Halla reminded him. 

"Well, yes, that's true. This dangerous bug has carried off more than one person," Glanni agreed, nodding wisely.

"It has not," Ípróttálfurrin corrected, sternly. "You're eating good food here, not your usual rubbish. _That_ will make you strong and defeat the sickness." 

"Nonsense. If nutrition is so good, you're simply making me more attractive, if that were possible. It's better to be a wasteland of empty calories and starve the bug right out!" 

"Would that work?" Siggi asked, amazed.

"No, it wouldn't..."

"Oh, what do you know?" Glanni snapped. "When have you ever been sick? You see, the elf wants you to think it's all dirt food and moving around. HA! He was born the way he is. It's pure luck." 

"What worries me most is I think you actually believe that," Ípróttálfurrin said with a sigh. "Children, you've been here long enough. He is still sick and needs to rest."

Solla and Halla stood immediately, while Siggi only reluctantly abandoned his place. 

"Good-bye, Glanni. Give that bug what for!"

"Halla's right. Don't die, Glanni," Solla urged, sadly. "That would be a terrible thing!" 

"Well, I certainly wouldn't enjoy it," Glanni conceded, shrugging. 

"Good-bye, Glanni. We'll see you later. Maybe you can think up a prank about being sick."

"Siggi," Ípróttálfurrin scolded mildly. "Don't encourage that sort of thing." 

"Oh! Well, no...only, you know, I mean, just a small, funny prank. Nothing really bad."

"Sounds pointless," Glanni said, amused. "But, yes, I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to think of good things to do, once I'm well. Good-bye, children!" 

Once the children were gone, Glanni slumped down into a sulk.

"That wasn't necessary."

"It wasn't necessary for you to frighten them, either."

"I didn't frighten them!" 

"You told them you were dying!" 

"Well...yes? Why would that frighten them?" Glanni asked, his lower lip pushing out. 

"Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin sighed. "Why do you think they came here today?" 

"I don't know. You chased them off, before I could find out." 

"You're sick and maybe hurting. They wanted to cheer you up." 

"What's that to do with being frightened?" 

"They _care_ , Glæpur! Losing someone you care for is scary, especially for children." 

"Well, they don't have to care so much! The nicest thing I've done is teach them the words to The Duck Song."

"Actually, the Llama Song is their favorite," Ípróttálfurrin corrected, amused. "I just wish you would stick to songs, instead of telling them stories, like Jack and the Beanstalk."

"What's wrong with that?" Glanni asked thickly, trying not to cough.

"You had the giant eat Jack."

"I thought you would like that part. The bad thief got his just desserts!" 

"I don't approve of thieves, naturally, but that was too much! The children did not need a graphic description of Jack being skewered and stewed." 

"There's no pleasing some people," Glanni grumbled. "How would you end the story, then?"

"Peaceably. Jack would return what he stole and the giant would learn to be friendlier."

"That's not very realistic." 

"It could be, if more people believed in the possibility. Well, as realistic as a story about a giant living in the clouds could ever be." 

"You're a sap," Glanni complained, but the corners of his lips curved slightly up. 

"I value the good in people." 

Glanni yawned, slumping down. Ípróttálfurrin studied him for a moment, but the yawn seemed genuine, not sarcastic. Glanni pulled his blankets tighter, only to lose his grip on them, as another cough wracked his thin frame. Standing, Ípróttálfurrin alternately patted and rubbed Glanni's back.

"I think I should go. You need to sleep some more." 

"I might as well, since you chased my entertainment away," Glanni complained, his voice weaker than before.

"Yes, I know. Well. I won't stop them from coming back or the others from visiting, if they choose," Ípróttálfurrin promised, helping ease Glanni back into his pillows. "Now, rest." 

Glanni mumbled incoherently, curling up on his side. Smiling, Ípróttálfurrin gathered up wads of used tissues and placed them in the trashcan next to Glanni's bed. He reached under Glanni's pillows, removing the chocolates, then placed them in the drawer of the nightstand, so they wouldn't melt. Considering, he left the drawer open just a bit, so Glanni would find the candy later. Ípróttálfurrin gave his nemesis a final, fond smile, before leaving to see if the mayor needed any help.


	7. Meeting the Mob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus and Robbie begin their investigation.

Sportacus looked around, eyeing the high ranking criminals and businessmen who lounged around the expensive bar. Cigar smoke filled the air, as rich men sipped expensive alcohol, while talking quietly or reading newspapers. Occasionally, voices would get loud, but never for long. Sportacus recognized a few of the faces, from arrest warrants and newspaper articles. Robbie ignored his criminal cohorts, heading directly for the bar.

"I want the sweetest cognac you have and a glass of water with lemon," Robbie demanded of the bartender. Seeing the bartender's near shock, he waved at Sportacus, adding, "The water is for him." 

"Oh, of course, Mr. Rotten," the bartender agreed, with a slight chuckle, hurrying to fill the order. 

"Rotten!" a loud, coarse voice exploded, nearby.

Turning, Sportacus saw a tall, broad man, approaching, his short, silver hair seeming to form agitated spikes. The man's eyes were a muddy hazel, but they were hard as stones. He stopped right next to Robbie, topping his height by an inch, maybe even two. The man used his bulk to lean into Robbie's space. Smirking, Robbie just leaned back against the bar.

"Hello, Don. How's business?" 

"Don't play games, Rotten. You got magic. We all know that. If you got those stones, you need to admit it and start naming your price!" 

Robbie blinked, his nose twitching, but he shrugged his shoulders.

"My price?" 

"Yeah, your price!" Don snarled. "You think you're being cute? You don't gotta drive the price up. I'll pay just about any price you could name for those things. If you got them, why keep it secret?" 

"Gosh," Robbie said dryly, almost rolling his eyes. "I wonder why someone would keep that secret, until they were ready to sell...assuming they even intend to sell." 

"You better intend to sell," Don warned, his face turning an ugly shade of purplish red. "You don't need all of those. I think you can afford to share, especially given the money you stand to make." 

"I have more money than any two of you other guys. Maybe..."

Don didn't wait for Robbie to finish, but reached out, grabbing Robbie by his vest. Sportacus grabbed Don's wrist, squeezing hard enough to make him release a bewildered Robbie. Shocked, Don stared in affront at the apparent henchman. The lines of Sportacus' face were rigid, his mouth set in a hard line. The flesh of Don's arm raised in white ridges around Sportacus' fingers.

"Don't touch my boss," Sportacus ordered, his even tone not concealing his fierce anger.

"Nope, naughty," Robbie chided, a bit shrilly, slapping at Sportacus' hand. "Leave the nice man alone, Sparta. Come on. Let go!" 

Reluctantly, Sportacus released Don's arm. Don pulled his arm to his chest, rubbing the bruised area and giving a nervous laugh.

"Your man's got a helluva grip," Don complimented. "Good to see there's still some loyalty in the world." 

"Uh, yeah," Robbie agreed, his nose twitching. "I'll, uh, make it up to you. I don't have the crystals. You probably know more than I do. I heard some crystals had gone missing and decided to try and get hold of one or two." 

"You're gonna be bidding, then?" Don didn't quite ask. "Lovely. Look, Rotten, spare some for the rest of us, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I don't need all of them. Though, how do we know _anyone_ has them, if we don't know who?" 

"The elves. They're freaking out. They've been arresting people left and right. You remember Tommy, Martin's head guy? He managed to bug an interrogation room. Stupid cops still treat him like he's just muscle. Anyways. He bugged the room and the elves were talking, between interrogations. They did find the bug, but not before we confirmed the crystals are stolen and somewhere in the area." 

"Good, good, what else?"

"Nothing else. They were talking about who they thought had the crystals, but they didn't say anything useful."

"Oh," Robbie said, frowning, crossing his arms over his chest in a sulk. "Well, do we know when and where they went missing, then?"

"Nah, nothing."

"Nothing?!" Robbie growled, complaining, "What have you people been _doing_?"

"Waiting for you to show up, mostly," Don admitted. "Maybe you can trick the elves outta some information."

"Yes. FINE. Who did they arrest first?"

"Herman Handsy, but they released him."

Robbie drank down his cognac, his face twisting, as the alcohol hit the back of his throat.

"Well, then. Good seeing you, again, Don. Bye."

Sportacus nodded curtly at Don, following Robbie silently.

"Let's get something to eat, then we'll go find Herby. I want pizza."

"Robbie, Don almost got violent with you. If anyone realizes..."

"They won't and they wouldn't do anything, if they did. I have defenses and they know it. Plus, who else would they get magic and machines from?" Robbie said, shrugging, then paused on the sidewalk, staring curiously at Sportacus. "Uh, back there...what...I mean..."

"Robbie," Sportacus interrupted, shaking his head, his lips quirked in a strange expression, almost amused, but rather sorrowful. "I would never let someone hurt you."

"Oh," Robbie said, twitching uncertainly. "Right. SO! Pizza is this way." 

"Who is Herman Handsy?"

"Oh, a local thief, minor crook. He does odd jobs. He used to be part of the Glaumbær gang, but he sort of drifted away. He's a loner type." 

"That doesn't sound like someone who could successfully steal crystals."

"No, but he could fence them, if whoever took them is stupid enough."

"If he had through his usual channels, we would know. How will we find out, if he used other ones?"

"Bribery."


	8. A Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither are as one-sided as the other seems to think.

Mikkel grabbed the waste can out of the upstairs bathroom and began tossing used tissues inside. A haphazard stream of them was scattered from the guest bedroom to the stairs. Following the soggy trail led Mikkel to his den and through the partially open door. Glanni stood in front of a tall cabinet with a glass front, eyeing the items inside. Mikkel couldn't help tsking at Glanni's bare feet and shivering frame.

"Hello, Mayor," Glanni greeted, smirking. "Don't worry. I'm not plotting a theft."

"You wouldn't get much for anything in there," Mikkel assured him, before addressing more important matters. "Why aren't you at least wearing socks?"

"Because, Mayor Pabbi," Glanni retorted, sighing. "I only have one pair here and they're damp."

"Oh, for...wait here. I'll be right back."

Mikkel left, coming back with a heavy robe, slippers, and a thick pair of wool socks. He handed the socks to Glanni, then draped the robe over his shoulders.

"Fine, fine," Glanni said, pulling the clothes on. "You fibbed to me, by the way."

" _I_ fibbed??" Mikkel said shocked. "I never do that!"

"You said nothing in the cabinet is valuable, but I bet those dolls would fetch a nice bit of money," Glanni explained, opening the previously locked cabinet and removing one of them. "That looks like silver to me."

"Well, yes, I think it is, but only a tiny amount. Anyway, she's broken."

"Broken?" Glanni asked, frowning, turning the doll over and about, then giving an appreciative whistle. "She moves! Or, she's supposed to move?" 

"They all used to. But, none of them have, oh, in ages, really, since I was younger than you." 

"Than me?" Glanni repeated, chuckling. "How old do you think I am?" 

"Certainly not thirty yet!" 

"No, but almost!" Glanni said, amused, turning the doll around and examining her. "Do you know how she's broken?"

"No, just from age I suppose. I inherited those from my grandfather and he had them before my father was born, possibly from his father. Family heirlooms, but with only sentimental value." 

Glanni looked up at the other dolls. There were four in all, including the woman. The others were two male dolls and a little girl. The men's faces and hands were gilded with bronze, where the woman was silver. The child doll was gilded in gold. The metal was painted just enough to give them oddly beautiful faces. There was a faint red for the lips, dark smudges to emphasize the carved noses, and white, blue and brown for the eyes and eyebrows. Their clothes were elaborate and well tailored. One man was dressed as a soldier, the other as a gentleman of leisure from a past century. The woman wore an elaborate gown, while the girl wore a simple dress of fine wool. All of them had wigs of soft, dark hair.

"Tell me about them," Glanni insisted.

"I don't know anything to tell. I do remember Grandma saying the man who made them wasn't anyone famous. I think a family friend made them, maybe, though I don't remember who first owned them."

"Not famous? Huh. These are beautiful, though," Glanni said, his voice softer than usual.

Mikkel watched the boy, as he examined the dolls, and couldn't help smiling. Glanni's expression was avid and admiring, but not greedy. He held the doll gently, smoothing the dress. It was oddly endearing to see him so relaxed, focused on something other than mischief. 

"What did they do?" 

"Hm? Oh! The woman and gentleman fit together and did a sort of swaying dance, twisting side to side. It finished with him dipping her backward. The soldier, um, let's see, yes, he did a sort of salute with his sword and bowed. The girl...oh, dear. Let me think. Oh, she clapped, I think, and did a sort of clapping game." 

"You should get them fixed!" 

"I did take them to a repair place, once, but the man there didn't know what could be done. He just suggested replacing their machinery. I didn't really want to do that, especially since he sounded like he would have to change them quite a bit." 

"He was an idiot. These things are art! I bet I can fix them and, if I can't, Robbie can."

"Robbie?"

"Robbie Rotten. He's the number one villain for a reason, you know. If I promise to be careful, can I try to fix them?"

"I--I suppose that will be all right."

"Excellent, I'll just sit here..."

"No, not here!" Mikkel scolded, making Glanni frown. "It's far too cold. If you don't want to go back to bed, you can sit in the living room. There's a good fire in there."

"Yes, Mayor Pabbi," Glanni said, rolling his eyes. 

Mikkel ignored Glanni's tone, handing him a small basket to put the dolls in. Glanni tucked the dolls carefully inside, forgetting to be annoyed. He was just glad he had a small set of tools in the pockets of his coat!


	9. A Talk with Hermy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie and Sportacus meet up with Hermy Handsy.

Sportacus gazed around, feeling a bit perplexed, at the stately buildings that towered nearby. He'd spotted, so far, a museum, a coffee shop, and a very nice apartment building. The entire area seemed prosperous and well tended. There were some tourists in casual clothes, but the natives of the area were well-dressed, moving with leisurely confidence. 

"Handsy is from around here?" Sportacus asked.

"No," Robbie scoffed. "He just works here. There's plenty of deep pockets to pick. "

"Of course," Sportacus said, trying to hide his disapproval, but Robbie gave him an amused grin.

"Heh. Come on. Donnie said he came this way and Herby isn't likely to be educating himself at the museum. There's Debenhams department store and a coffee shop near it. He'll be in one of those."

"The fence's name was Lonnie, Robbie. You just want a drink loaded with sugar and caffeine."

"Of course!" Robbie agreed, taking in a deep breath. They were close enough to smell the rich scents of coffee and milk, making Robbie sigh with delight. "I'm definitely grabbing some of that, once we're done here." 

"Really, Robbie, you should drink more water."

"Your concern is so touching. I should give you a raise."

"I can't get paid, if you drop dead on me." 

"Whatever," Robbie said, stalking off to the department store. 

Robbie led Sportacus through the lower levels, which seemed to be mainly ladies' clothing. Every once in a while, Robbie stopped, fingering a shirt or dress, seeming more interested in the fabric, than the item itself. Finally, they took the escalator to the second floor and Robbie immediately headed for men's clothing. The ones on display were mainly suits, in various shades and styles. Racks of ties, cufflinks, and other accessories, were displayed within easy reach. 

"This is an awfully nice store."

"Well, if you're going to pickpockets, they might as well be fat ones." 

"Yes, of course," Sportacus agreed, rolling his eyes. 

"Why doesn't this place have more purple?!" 

"There's a nice, orange tie over there." 

"Where?"

Robbie headed in the direction Sportacus pointed. A metallic orange tie with gold specks was displayed above, a frankly boring, gray vest. 

"Rats," Robbie grumbled. "I already have that one." 

"I think I see Hermy." 

Sportacus watched as Hermy Handsy deftly removed a man's wallet from his pocket, as he examined a selection of dress shirts. Sportacus started to move forward, but stopped himself. He turned away, wishing there was something more interesting to look at than neckties and Robbie's smirk. The man moved away, heading for the stairs. Chuckling, Robbie came over, patting his shoulder.

"Come on, Sparta. Time to move in." 

Sportacus followed Robbie over to Herman Handsy. Beady eyes looked from Robbie to Sportacus, seeming to gauge both need for and odds of escaping. Sportacus clapped a hand firmly on Handsy's shoulder, impressing Robbie with his wolfish grin. 

"Hello, Handsy. Rotten and I need to talk to you," Sportacus said pleasantly. 

"Uh, sure. Hey, Robbie," Handsy greeted. 

The fitting rooms were only a few steps away. The nearest door, stretching from the floor to the top of the cubicle, stood open. Quickly, Sportacus herded the other two inside, then closed and locked the door.

"I take it you fellas want to talk about the crystals, huh?" Hermy guessed, glancing at Sportacus' crossed arms and stern expression. 

"It's the only thing interesting about you," Robbie said, shrugging, just stating a fact. 

"Heh, true enough. I don't know anything, though. If I'd ever seen them I'd be off living the good life, not scraping money together here." 

"They why did the elves question you?"

"I was in the area when the crystals went missing. Apparently, the elves were moving them about and they just disappeared from their truck." 

"W-what...how?!" Robbie protested. "They have anti-theft spells!"

"Yeah, they do, but that's what happened. The elves loaded up the crystals and a bunch of other stuff. When the elves got into town, the crystals were gone. The weird thing is the elves were keeping a low profile. They were dressed as humans." 

"How do you know that, if you weren't involved?" 

"Eh. The elves dropped a few hints, wanting me to think they knew more than they did. It might have worked, if I'd actually been guilty," Hermy said, chuckling.

"Could you pull something like that off?" Sportacus questioned, doubtfully.

"No, but I could've been hired by someone." 

"Only if that someone had a lot of magic."

"Sure. That's why everyone thinks Robbie did it." 

"Well, I didn't. I, uh, well, of course, I'm interested in _buying_." 

"You and everyone else, but no one admits having them. That's it, fellas. You know as much as me, now." 

"Which isn't much," Sportacus said, grimly. 

"Yeah, well, we get by with what we got," Hermy said cheerfully. "We can't all be brawn...or brains, either."

"How come you didn't tell Don and the others about the truck and the crystals just disappearing?" 

"They didn't ask. Besides, I don't want them thinking I was involved, since I can't really help them. They're not the most reasonable bunch of guys. So, we done or do you got work for me?" 

"No, no, we're done," Robbie agreed, opening the door. "Stay here a few minutes, until we're gone." 

Robbie and Sportacus managed to get away from the dressing room, with no one seeing them. 

"Well, that didn't go well. How much of that did you already know?" 

"All of it. This doesn't make sense!" Sportacus said, as he and Robbie walked towards the coffee shop. "Villains with that much magic usually take over countries! They don't waste time robbing trucks. Do you have any ideas who might be responsible?" 

"Not a clue," Robbie admitted. "This just isn't anyone's _style_. Villain's Digest is going to have a field day. They're going to want to interview you, you know, once this gets out."

"Interview me?" Sportacus repeated, bewildered. "Why?"

"Are you kidding?! A hero gets a taste of the villain life! Admittedly, you don't seem to care for it, but that just makes for a good laugh!" 

"Well, I'm not amused."

"I noticed," Robbie said, smirking. "Oh, you wanted to stop Henry so much!" 

Sportacus didn't reply, just shaking his head. Robbie studied him, his own smile disappearing. He'd expected Sportacus to be annoyed, but not this grim dismay. 

"Come on. It's not like he took some mom's grocery money." 

"I'm sure he did, just not while we watched."

"Well...you can always turn him in, once you get the crystals back. Though, honestly, someone else will probably beat you to it." 

"It's not about making Hermy pay. It's about that man he robbed. Sure, he probably has money, but his distress at being robbed will still be real. He was probably embarrassed, when he tried to pay and his wallet was missing."

"You're feeling bad for some rich guy you don't even know," Robbie scoffed, sulking, annoyed by the sadness Sportacus was making him feel.

"I shouldn't care about him, because he's rich? Robbie! I'm a hero. I care about people! That's who heroes _are_."

"Sounds painful." 

"Sometimes, yes," Sportacus agreed, sadly, staring away from Robbie, " but it's worth it." 

"You're weird, Sportakook. Come on. We better get a hotel room. Tomorrow, we'll talk to some fences. We'll find out the latest gossip and see if we get a lead that way."


	10. Scary Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nenni, Goggi, and Jives visit. Glanni tells them a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glanni is Glanni. The story he tells is a scary one, with mentions of blood. Also, a teenager (sort of?) dies, though there is no violence. It's nothing worse than what you would read in an urban legend website, but it's no better, either, tbh. The story is marked by ****.

Glanni lay against the couch, trying to make an adjustment to the soldier doll's leg. He hummed a bit under his breath, in tune with the music drifting in from the kitchen. A sharp rapping on the doorway made Glanni cringe, his hands flying up to cover his ears. He looked up, glaring.

"You don't have to knock the entire house over! Just come in!" 

"Sorry, Glanni," Nenni apologized, sheepishly. "We didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't startle me," Glanni protested. "You were just being too loud." 

"It's too bad it's harder to kill real viruses, than ones on a computer. I could just rewrite some code and you'd feel a lot better," Goggi told him.

"You can't screw with human coding, yo yo!" Jives scolded, as the boys settled into the room's armchairs. 

"It can't be any worse than making me eat vegetables," Glanni complained. "I'm tired of eating things that grow in dirt!" 

"Are you feeling any better?" Goggi asked.

"I don't know," Glanni said, the words sounding like they were pushed through water, before he gave a harsh cough. "This cough is drowning everything else out." 

"What do you have there?" Nenni asked, dragging the basket of dolls closer. "Do these belong to anyone? Can they be _mine_?" 

"Put those down, you greedy gremlin!" Glanni laughed. "Those are the mayor's. I'm fixing them for him." 

"You are?" Goggi asked, surprised. "What are you fixing?" 

"They're supposed to move." 

"Aww, they're so pretty! Totally! They look delicate," Jives said, excited, but wary, as he picked up the child. 

"Yes, they're pretty," Glanni grumbled. "They're made of oak. Oak isn't delicate!"

Goggi pulled Glanni's toolkit out of the basket, examining the contents. The techno-wizard shook his head, unimpressed.

"How are you getting anywhere with these? They're too big and you don't have everything."

"I'm making do! I didn't come expecting to repair dolls." 

"You're lucky the mayor is letting you stay at all," Nenni said, primly. "George is very cross that you found somewhere to stay, without paying." 

Glanni chuckled, the mirth making a cough burble out of his throat.

"HA! He should have thought about that, before kicking me out." 

"If I bring you in some tools, can I help?" Goggi asked, hesitantly. 

Glanni blinked, a bit surprised at the request, then shrugged, nodding.

"If you'll sneak me in some candy with the tools, you have a deal." 

"Sure!" Goggi agreed happily. "I'll get some from Ziggy."

"Yes, you do that." 

"I guess you don't want to tell stories, with your cough so bad," Jives said, sadly.

"Ípróttálfurrin doesn't want me telling you stories."

"What?!"

"Aw, why not?"

"I make them too scary," Glanni said primly.

"Oh, a little scare is fun!" Jives scoffed. "Ípróttálfurrin didn't really say that. Did he?"

"He did! He thinks my ending to Jack and the Beanstalk is 'too much.'"

Nenni giggled.

"It's like you're our mom and dad and Mom is the sensible one!" 

"I've never seen a mom with such bulging muscles," Glanni said, dryly. "I prefer soft, round women." 

"Like Stina?" Goggi asked.

The other boys gasped softly, but Glanni just smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

"Now, now, boys, you'll make the mayor jealous and he is doing me a favor."

"You're not really going to stop telling stories, are you? You never listen to anything else Ípróttálfurrin says," Nenni reasoned.

"No," Glanni said with a laugh. " _Elves_ should be seen, not heard." 

"Why do you want to see him, though?" Jives asked, head tilted.

Glanni frowned, angrily.

"You know, if one of you can convince Mayor Pabbi to..."

"Mayor Pabbi?!" the children chorused, amazed. 

"Yes, that's what I'm calling him," Glanni insisted. "He fusses over me, like I was your age!" 

"Well, he is pretty old," Goggi said, defensively.

"Yes, well, even old people need to cut the apron strings eventually." 

"What about the mayor?" Nenni prompted.

"What? OH! If you can convince him to make us plenty of tea, I'll try and tell a story."

"I'll convince him!" Nenni promised. 

"Don't bribe him!" Glanni warned. "You're too young to be jailed for bribing a public official." 

"Well, but...all right," Nenni conceded, thinking better of arguing. 

Soon, Nenni and the Mikkel came in, though Mikkel only stayed long enough to deliver some tea and sandwiches. As soon as he was gone, everyone settled into their seats, tea and food in hand. Glanni sipped slowly at his tea, a sly grin slipping slowly across his lips.

****

"A few years ago, in Mayhemtown, there was a teenage boy, named Thomas. Thomas lived in a small apartment in a quiet, working neighborhood. There was nothing very special about Thomas. He enjoyed sports and hanging with his friends. His humor was rough, maybe even mischievous, but not malicious..."

"Was he like you, as a boy?" Nenni asked.

"Pfffft, no!" Glanni scolded. "Can you really imagine _me_ enjoying sports?!"

"Oh. No," Nenni admitted, embarrassed.

"Good! Now, one rainy day, Thomas was in his bedroom, playing video games, like a sensible young man. He was about to move his player from the room he was exploring, when his _own voice_ said, 'There's an extra life under the dresser.'"

"Wait, wait! Did he hear that out loud or in his head?" Goggi demanded.

Glanni smirked.

"Thomas himself was a bit confused about that. At first, he thought he heard the voice. But, he was caught up in his game and the idea seemed pretty silly. He decided he had just been thinking really loudly. So, he got the life and kept playing." 

"Imagine a haunted video game," Jives whispered.

"You can't haunt yourself, though," Nenni disagreed. 

"Don't be too sure," Glanni warned. "I do like the video game idea, though. Save that thought for later."

"Let him tell the story," Goggi urged, impatiently.

"Heh heh heh! Poor Thomas," Glanni chuckled. "Well, a small time later, Thomas had to choose between opening two doors. One held a prize and the other a monster to fight. Thomas wanted to get more points, before he fought another monster, so he was trying to decide which door held the prize."

"The left one!" Goggi said, firmly. "It's usually the left one, almost seventy percent of the time."

"Gog-gi!" Jives scolded. "Who's interrupting now? Save the game chat for later!" 

"AHEM!" Glanni spat fiercely. "THIS TIME, the voice was clearer, telling him to choose the door on the right. Knowing a lot about games, Thomas was pretty sure the prize was on the left. So, he ignored the voice and opened that door, but the monster was inside. Worse, Thomas heard, once again, _his own voice_ say 'I told you so.'" 

Jives pulled his cap on tighter, while Goggi and Nenni gave soft gulps, their eyes wide. Glanni just smiled blandly, his eyes bright and cheerful.

"Thomas swiftly turned around, looking for the source of the voice. He barely glanced at his mirror, so he almost, _almost_ , missed seeing his reflection rolling its eyes and shaking its head. Thomas turned fully to the mirror, staring hard at it. He just saw his reflection give a smirk, before it adopted Thomas' expression, copying him perfectly.

Glanni paused, watching his audience squirm uneasily. Ha, he had them nice and hooked! What more could a storyteller want? He continued, basking in their undivided attention.

"Thomas started to turn around, but his reflection BANGED...once on his side of the mirror, making the reflection shimmer. Thomas screeched, turning back to find his reflection laughing at him.

'Who are you?' Thomas demanded.

'Well, you, of course. I'm the you that lives on this side of the mirror.'

'How...what do you want?' Thomas persisted.

'I'm tired of video games. Let's have some fun!' Mirror!Thomas said slyly.

'What sort of fun?'

"NO! Thomas don't _trust_ him," Nenni scoffed.

"Well, it is sort of himself," Jives said, shrugging.

"Sort of," Glanni agreed, dryly. "Mirror!Thomas explained that he and Thomas could switch places and explore each other's side of the mirror, could see if the things _not_ seen in the mirror were the same, too." 

Jives, Nenni, and Goggi all went utterly still, until Goggi, speaking for all three, voiced a heartfelt, "Aw, crap." 

Glanni just laughed, continuing, "Thomas certainly hesitated. But, he remembered the story of Alice and wasn't about to be outdone by a younger girl!"

"Don't let Hanna hear you say that," Jives advised somberly.

Glanni started, frowning deeply in surprise.

"Um..." Glanni hummed, then shook himself, continuing, "...anyway, Thomas agreed. They both placed their hands on the mirror and PUSHED. Thomas felt a sickening, squeezing force, then stumbled. Shivering, he stood up, looking carefully around. The walls were painted the same pale blue as his room, with the tan carpet, but there was something a bit off. The shadows seemed to be in the wrong places. In the areas the mirror didn't show, items were out of place. Thomas hung his jacket on the left post of his bed, but the jacket here was on the right. 

Thomas felt oddly drawn to the sandwich he had brought up to his room earlier. He picked it up and went back to the mirror. His reflection was right in front of him, holding his sandwich and sniffing it. Thomas smelled the sandwich in his hand, but frowned. It didn't smell _bad_ exactly, but the smell wasn't right. Mirror!Thomas seemed perfectly happy with Thomas' sandwich, though. 

'I don't think we should eat anything. The smell is wrong. What if we get sick?' 

'Don't be a baby!' Mirror!Thomas scoffed. 

He took a big bite of Thomas' sandwich, chewing with relish. Thomas grimaced. He didn't want a bite of sandwich, but was afraid of looking like a coward. Suddenly, though, Mirror!Thomas began making a gagging sound, his eyes wide and alarmed," Glanni announced, slowing down his pace. The boys squirmed. "As Thomas watched, his reflection's jaw dropped and his chest _writhed_. Mirror!Thomas gave an agonized cough and blood shot out, spraying the mirror!" 

"EWWWWW!" the boys chorused, grimacing and shaking their heads in denial. 

"How will Thomas get back?!" Jives asked, worried. 

"Well, fortunately for him, Thomas had just enough sense to bang on the glass, just as the dead Thomas hit the mirror! They traded places again. Thomas stumbled forward into his own room, right next to his fallen sandwich. He kicked it across the room, listening to a dull thud from the mirror. Thomas knew he had to turn around. Sooner or later, he would have to look and find out if he still had a reflection."

"But, he has to see something in the mirror!" Nenni protested, shaken. 

"Vampires don't," Goggi said softly. 

"Thomas thought of that. He was hoping for that. Because imagine. What if he spent his entire life seeing his reflection's dead body...seeing it lying dead on the floor, seeing it being embalmed...seeing it rotting in its coffin..." 

The boys shivered, imagining it very vividly. 

"Thomas did finally turn around," Glanni told them. "And...he saw his reflection, looking just as alive and well as he was himself!" 

"WHAT?!" Goggi protested, shocked. 

"You...that's how the story ends? _Your_ story??" Jives asked, in disbelief, but then he saw Glanni's smile, the wry, sly twist of the villain's lips. 

"Thomas was relieved. He gave a nervous smile. 

'Are you all right?' he asked. 

Mirror!Thomas glared hatefully at him. 

'No, I'm not all right!' he spat. 

A drop of blood hit the mirror, then disappeared. Mirror!Thomas...changed. His hair went white, standing on end, while his skin became a sickly gray. His eyes, whites, pupils, everything, became black as pitch! His mouth opened wide, showing blood-stained teeth and a swollen tongue! 

'I'm dead and IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!' Mirror!Thomas wailed. 

Thomas fainted dead away. He never saw anything strange in a mirror again, but, then, he never willingly looked in one again, either, avoiding them, as much as possible." 

****

"Haunted by his reflection's ghost," Nenni whispered, his eyes wide and frightened, though a smile curved his lips. 

"I would applaud, if my hands weren't full!" the Mayor said, coming into the room with a tray of food. "I certainly hope sandwiches are okay, after that." 

"Oh, yes, Mayor!" Goggi assured him. 

"Thank you, sir," Jives agreed. 

"So, you liked my story?" Glanni challenged, his hands twisting in his blanket. 

"Certainly!" Mikkel asked, surprised. "It was a long time ago, but I _was_ a boy once, you know!"

"Did you like scary stories?" Nenni asked, amazed. 

"Oh, yes! When I was your age, my friends and I liked a series called The Weird and Horrible Library, by Daniel Cohen. The first one I read was called The Body-Snatchers. Oh, how our parents hated those books!" 

"Did you have to sneak them into your room?" Glanni asked, a bit eagerly.

"Well, _I_ didn't. My mother complained about the books, but I was allowed to have them, anyway. Though, I did hide books in my room for a couple of my friends." 

The boys gasped, while Glanni sat up, straight and rigid.

"But, you're the _mayor_ , yo, yo!" Jives protested. 

"Oh, Jives, I was eleven at the time!" Mikkel laughed. "I wasn't born the mayor." 

"No. Of course not," Glanni agreed, frowning, slumping down a bit. "And, no Ípróttálfurrin to scold you, then, either." 

"His uncle was the hero of Lazy Town back then." 

"HIS UNCLE?!" Glanni cried, outraged, the violence of his speech sending him into a coughing fit. 

"Imagine having Ípróttálfurrin for an uncle!" Goggi said, laughing, while Mikkel pounded on Glanni's back. 

"All right, all right," Mikkel said. "Grab some of those sandwiches to take with you. I think Glanni needs some rest now. You can come back later."

"Why am I always being told to rest?!" Glanni snarled, once the boys had said their goodbyes and left.

"Well, for one, you're radiating heat. I think your fever has gone back up a bit."

"How did you go from hiding books for friends to being so... _proper_?" 

"I grew up and wanted to take care of people," Mikkel said, dryly. 

"Well. Mission accomplished, I guess," Glanni said, amused. 

"I like to think so, with Ípróttálfurrin's help, of course."

"Of. Course." 

"Now, honestly. Why do you dislike him?" 

"Why shouldn't I? He's a _hero_ , which means he's no fun at all. He's all sports and eating food from dirt."

"There's far more to him than that. He's clever and kind. He taught me how to play chess!" 

"How did you get him to sit still that long?" 

"I didn't do anything. He kept himself still."

"Huh. Was he any good at it?"

"At keeping still? Not really. He did push-ups, whenever it was my turn." 

Glanni sighed, shaking his head. 

"I meant at chess." 

"OH! Yes, I believe so. If you play, I'm sure he'd be willing to play a game or two with you."

Glanni went still, then shrugged, elaborately.

"Well, if he needs someone to _challenge_ him, I don't mind." 

Mikkel hid a smile, just nodding softly.

"I'll tell him you said so."


	11. Down Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie and Sportacus settle into a hotel room for the night. (No romance yet, sorry.)

Robbie handed Sportacus an electronic key, after paying for their hotel room. There was only one room available at the hotel Robbie insisted they stay in. Sighing, Sportacus followed Robbie to their room. Unfortunately, the upper-level room had only one bed, though it did have a small fridge and a coffee maker. Robbie stretched out on the bed with a contented sigh. 

"Are you going to sleep?" Sportacus asked, admiring the tasteful room's cool greens and blues and the bland, but pretty, prints hanging from the walls. 

"Every chance I get," Robbie retorted, making Sportacus chuckle. 

"You're missing out on life, doing all that sleeping." 

"If you say so, Sportanut," Robbie agreed. "Have you ever stayed in a hotel before?"

"A few times. Nowhere as nice as this, though."

Robbie stretched, arching slightly as he reveled in the bed. 

"You look like a cat," Sportacus teased, gently.

"It's a family thing. Hand me the remote, will you?" 

Sportacus complied, then began doing sit-ups, occasionally glancing up at the television. Robbie pointedly ignored Sportacus, flipping rapidly through the channels. Hearing a cry of triumph from Robbie, Sportacus jumped up, confused.

"What is it?"

"The Princess Bride!" Robbie said happily. "This is my favorite movie."

"Really?" Sportacus askes, amazed.

"Well, duh. It has everything and the villain wins!" 

"Robbie, Westley is the hero." 

"Nonsense! He's a pirate, the latest in a long line of Dread Pirate Roberts!" 

"Okay, yes, he becomes the Dread Pirate Roberts, but only so he can get back to Buttercup!"

"Westley spends years as Roberts AND he passes the title on to Inigo." 

"Robbie, he saves everyone and defeats Humperdinck, the villain!" 

"He only saves Buttercup and that's because he's in love with her."

"He helps Inigo and saves Guilder from a horrible war!"

"Oh, puh-leeze. All of that was just to help his own goal. Aaaaannnd, Westley's goal was to keep Buttercup from marrying _someone else_." 

"He shows mercy and kindness. He supports his friends. At his core, Westley is a good, caring man." 

"HA! He's ruthless and determined. That threat to Humperdinck at the end? That was pure villainous _genius_ , spiteful, cold, and perfect! Tell me, hero, how do you justify him killing Vizzini?" 

"Vizzini is a murderer and planning to kill Buttercup. It's not a justice that works in real life, of course, but it's not unusual for heroes to kill villains in stories."

"True, true," Robbie concedes, deciding he shouldn't give Sportadork ideas on how a hero should treat a villain. "Still, he hardly follows the laws of the land or conforms! He _miiight_ have a few, heroic-ish tendencies, but he has villain ones, too!" 

"All right, Robbie," Sportacus said, laughing. "I won't argue. Though, you don't seem bothered by the villain being so concerned with love!" 

"Why would I be?" Robbie huffed, frowning. "We have as much right to fall in love as anyone else. We can be very attractive!" 

"My apologies, of course, you do," Sportacus said, hopping up on the bed. He sat cross-legged, leaning on a pillow he propped against the headboard. 

Robbie gaped at him for a moment, then cleared his throat. Sitting up, he scooted over a bit, putting another inch or two, between himself and Sportacus. Sportacus just smiled, a bit ruefully. It was a bit strange, sharing such close space together. Strange, yes, but it was also rather good. They might not agree about Westley, but they both did seem to enjoy the movie. Maybe, just maybe, Sportacus mused, they would find other things in common, too!


	12. Chess Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Glaumbær gang visits, until Ípróttálfurrin shows up.

"Hey, Glanni!" a squeaky voice announced itself. 

Flinching and sitting upright, Glanni stared in astonishment at the Glaumbær gang. The three men stood, peeking in the door, half hidden by its frame. Feeling gratitude at having company only made Glanni glare harder, his brows lowered threateningly.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. "You'll get me kicked out!"

"No, we won't," the largest one, Björn, said. "The mayor let us in." 

Glanni rolled his eyes. If he cared, which he did NOT, he would be annoyed with Mayor Pabbi's naive good will. These men were hardened criminals, after all. 

"Well, then. Get in here!" he ordered harshly. 

The gang entered, laughing raspily. Björn and Geir, the next tallest, perched on the windowsill. The smallest, Sindri, sat on the foot of the bed, until Glanni glared him down, then moved to the floor. Sighing, Glanni fluffed his pillows, until he could sit up and hold court, as it were.

"So? What's happening?" 

"Well, we have something to show you."

"That and we're bored," Sindri complained. 

"You're _bored_?! What, you need me to entertain you?" Glanni scolded. "Go rob something!" 

"We already did!" Björn assured him. "Well, sort of." 

"What do you mean, 'sort of?'" 

"Well, we were in Mayhem Town and we didn't want to walk. So, we sneaked onto a truck," Geir explained. "And, stupid Sindri had his marbles out..."

"Sindri hasn't had marbles...well, ever, that I know of," Glanni said, chuckling.

"NO! _REAL_ marbles, Glanni," Sindri said, sighing. "I use them for gambling."

"Yeah, but you don't ever get anything, except more marbles," Björn sneered. 

"Well, SOMEDAY..."

"Someday, one of you will finally get to the point!" 

"There were little bags in the truck that looked a lot like my bag..."

"Except not at all like his bag," Geir said, sighing and shaking his head.

"SHUT UP! I set my bag down, just for a moment, but then the truck stopped, so we had to sneak away. I grabbed my bag and got out. Only, it wasn't my bag. When I opened the bag, it had these in it, instead of my marbles," Sindri finished, holding a small, canvas bag out to Glanni. 

Glanni warily took the bag, opening it carefully. He whistled. Inside, five perfectly round crystals gleamed prettily. Even in the dark interior of the bag, pretty colors and lights glittered inside the orbs. Glanni took the stones out, letting them rest in hand. In the light, they almost glowed and Glanni could feel energy pulsing inside them.

"Do you know what these are?"

"Jewels!" Geir said eagerly. "Right? Diamonds!"

"They're not diamonds," Glanni scorned. "They have magic, which means they'll be far more valuable than diamonds." 

"More valuable than diamonds?" Björn asked, awed.

"Yes! They're crystals, of some kind. Have you told anyone else about this? Even a hint?" 

"Nope! Sindri didn't even realize he had them, until a few days after," Björn said, shrugging. "There's gotta be some way to make a profit from them." 

"There is, but we have to be careful. Very, very careful. Leave it to me. I'll think of something." 

"But...we're still bored!" Geir reminded him.

Glanni growled at him, frowning fiercely. The gang flinched, but didn't move. 

"You're stupid," Glanni told them sternly, placing the stones back in the bag and shoving it under his mattress. "You should be able to keep yourselves busy, while I'm sick. Just...go to Liar Town and talk to Brynja. She runs a casino there. Tell her I sent you and she'll find you something to do."

"Something honest, I hope," Ípróttálfurrin said, from the doorway.

The Glaumbær gang started, fluttering in place, like birds disturbed in their nest. Glanni just smiled innocently.

"She runs a casino. She could always use a few more bouncers."

"Ah, I see. Well, good luck, fellas." 

"Yeah, uh, thanks," Björn said, beginning to sweat. "Well, we better go then. Bye, Glanni." 

"Bye, Glanni!" Geir and Sindri echoed, dashing for the door, then stopping short, inches away from Ípróttálfurrin. 

The hero gave them a terrifyingly friendly smile, stepping inside and moving away from the door. He waved them graciously through. Squawking weakly, the gang dashed through the door, getting away from Ípróttálfurrin as quickly as they could manage. Ípróttálfurrin watched them go, chuckling merrily.

"You have very interesting friends, Glanni."

"They're useful enough. You keep chasing away my company."

"I didn't make them leave. The mayor said you might be interested in a game of chess." 

"I figured you needed a decent challenge."

"I do appreciate those," Ípróttálfurrin said, grinning wider.

He went out to the hall again and brought in a folding table and chair, balancing a chess set on one shoulder. He set up the table next to Glanni. 

"Which color do you want? Black, I suppose?" 

"You just want to move first."

"Not at all. You're welcome to both, if you wish." 

"Oh. All right," Glanni said, a bit bewildered by the generosity. 

Ípróttálfurrin swiftly set up the game and settled, as best he could, into his chair.

"Your move." 

"You're not going to do something silly like sit-ups, when it's my turn, are you?"

"Not if it bothers you. I doubt you'll take so long as the mayor," Ípróttálfurrin said, reluctantly. 

"I hope not," Glanni said, moving his first piece. 

"What did the Glaumbær gang want? They don't seem the type to visit a sick friend."

"HA, no. You heard. They were bored and wanted me to give them something to do."

"They work for you?" Ípróttálfurrin asked, a bit surprised.

"Every master criminal needs a few good henchmen," Glanni said, sweetly, then frowned. "Or, did you think I worked for others?" 

"Of course not. You're very famous for your schemes _and_ your independence." 

"Flatterer," Glanni said, smugly, but Ípróttálfurrin could tell he was pleased. 

"You're not exactly a traditional mafia boss type. Why not?" 

"Are you joking?! Those idiots are just crooked businessmen. I didn't become a criminal to wear a suit and tie and go to work every day." 

"I think you would look very sharp in a suit and tie." 

Glanni's face morphed into a deeply confused frown.

"Um. Thanks? I mean, okay, I would look good, but they're so _stuffy_. You can look good, without looking so stiff." 

"Your Rikki Rikki costume was dressy." 

"Yes, but it was loose and comfortable...and that color was fabulous! Anyways, I'm not taking clothing advice from you." 

"I'm not trying to be fashionable," Ípróttálfurrin said, amused. "My clothes are functional and comfortable." 

"Didn't I just prove that comfort and fashion can go together? You look like a cross between a Roman soldier and a gym teacher." 

"Gym teacher I don't mind, but Roman soldier? They were vicious, far too often."

"So are gym teachers." 

"Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin said, sighing.

"I speak from personal experience." 

"A specific instance doesn't prove a general rule." 

"Of course, neither would be caught dead in that hat. Why do you wear that thing?! Everyone knows you're an elf. You waste magic on plants." 

"I like my hat. Anyways, it's a good place for keeping my goggles and my crystal." 

"You could wear the crystal on a choker or an armband, a bracelet. It's pretty enough to be jewelry! The goggles are ugly, though." 

"But, they serve a purpose." 

"Useful doesn't have to be ugly," Glanni snarled.

Ípróttálfurrin laughed.

"Show me an attractive pair of goggles that work and I'll purchase them," he promised.

"Fine, but you wouldn't _need_ goggles, if your home didn't float." 

"I need to be able to travel swiftly," Ípróttálfurrin said, moving a chess piece. "You play chess very well."

"I was taught by one of the most brilliant minds of this century."

"Another villain, I take it." 

Glanni grinned, wagging his eyebrows playfully.

"Villains are clever. How else would I come up with all my lovely schemes?"

"You were so busy having fun with schemes, that you couldn't pay your rent on time."

Glanni's face fell from smug to annoyed.

"Stupid George. I have plenty of money! I just don't keep most of it here. I spent what I had on hand on _very important things_ *." 

"As you say," Ípróttálfurrin allowed, shaking his head in amusement. "I take it I need to keep an eye on you, once you're well." 

"You should always keep an eye on me, Elf." 

"You just like the attention."

"So? I _deserve_ the attention." 

"And you don't care, if that attention is positive or negative."

"Not especially. You don't have much room to talk, you know!" 

"I don't?"

"You're a show-off! All that bouncing and flipping and doing _completely random_ push-ups." 

"I do that to burn energy. And, you've never seemed especially impressed." 

"I have an image to maintain. I can't just go around being impressed all the time!" 

"Oh?" Ípróttálfurrinn questioned, smiling. "What is a villain allowed to be impressed with?" 

"A good chess game...maybe."

"Ah, so _you_ want a challenge," Ípróttálfurrinn sassed at him, grinning.

Glanni frowned, shrugging,

"Well, it's not like they're easy to find," he grumbled.

"I'll try not to disappoint you."

"Always a hero, even to villains." 

"Beating you at chess is heroic?" 

"It will be, if you manage to beat me." 

"Fair point," Ípróttálfurrinn conceded. 

To be fair, Glanni was right. Ípróttálfurrinn was suitably impressed with Glanni's gaming method and results. The contest between them stayed close, as pieces danced around the board and disappeared from the board. As the game progressed, Ípróttálfurrinn was a bit intrigued with how many pawns Glanni managed to keep in play. 

"Not to be insulting," Ípróttálfurrinn said, "but I'm surprised how careful you are with your pawns." 

Glanni picked up one of his pawns, dangling it from his long fingers. He sneered disdainfully. 

"Pawns are stupid, but...they can't _help_ being stupid. I might as well keep them useful. There's no telling what they'd get up to on their own." 

"Check," Ípróttálfurrinn warned, for the third time.

Glanni grinned, moving a piece of his own and rescuing his king.

"I'll have you in three moves," he promised.

Ípróttálfurrinn studied the board and realized it wasn't an idle threat. Ípróttálfurrinn planned his moves carefully, trying to outwit an opponent who quickly and easily changed strategies. To Ípróttálfurrinn's credit, it took Glanni seven moves to win, instead of his predicted three.

"HA! The villain doesn't always lose."

"Not when playing board games," Ípróttálfurrinn agreed, amused. 

Glanni yawned, stretching his body out as far as it would go, making joints pop. He extended his arms above his head, making grabbing motions with his fingers. Ípróttálfurrinn watched, shaking his head fondly. Standing, he placed the chess board and pieces on top of a nearby dresser.

"I have to leave, now. Rest well, Glanni." 

"Can't you find some other way to say goodbye?" Glanni complained. "I'm doing nothing but resting!"

"All right," Ípróttálfurrinn said, laughing. "Enjoy your evening, then." 

"Better. Not by much, but better." 

"Ha. Good-bye, Glanni." 

"Yes, good-bye." 

Glanni waited, until Ípróttálfurrinn was gone, then got up. He grabbed the black king and a few pawns from the dresser. Once in bed, he sat in the middle, with his blankets around him and set the pieces down on his lap. He had the king chase first the white pawns, then the black ones, for being stupid and not helping. He made both sets of pawns dance, throwing them lightly, so they did flips in the air. Finally, chuckling, Glanni picked up the king and a black pawn. 

"King, king, tell us what to do," Glanni cooed, before snarling, "We're _bored_."

He threw the black pawn back onto his lap and grabbed a white one.

"And you!" he scolded. "No wonder you need saving. You don't pay attention. No! You just la la la around eating dirt food. Well, you know what? I don't have to put up with any of you!" 

Glanni grabbed all of the chess pieces and dumped them into his nightstand drawer. He rummaged inside, until he found a paper and pen. 

"I'm going to write and get some _smart_ company. Then, I won't need a silly elf to rescue me from boredom and stupidity."

Glanni hastily wrote his letter. Once it was finished, he folded the paper in thirds and wrote on the blank side. A wave of golden magic sent the letter on its way. Satisfied, Glanni crawled into bed, going to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clothes. He spent his rent money on clothes.


	13. Wake Up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sportacus and Robbie in the morning.

Sportacus woke up to a pleasant, puzzling warmth, all across his back and legs. A strange, buzzing noise tickled the back of his head, where something rested. Opening his eyes, Sportacus looked down his side and saw Robbie's torso and limbs wrapped around him from head to toe. For just a few moments, Sportacus lay still, pretending the hug was from affection, rather than just some burrowing instinct. Then, he gently jostled his sleeping companion.

"Robbie. Wake up." 

"Mnnnnggh...warm," Robbie protested, not yet awake.

"It's time to get up," Sportacus urged.

Robbie just groaned, tightening his hold. Rolling his eyes, Sportacus looked at the clock on his bed table. It read seven twenty-five, but Sportacus ignored it, distracted. A folded paper sat next to the light, with Robbie's name scrawled across it. 

"Robbie," Sportacus prompted, receiving a growl. "Robbie, you have mail." 

"Urrmmmm...mail?" Robbie muttered, groggily, sounding confused. 

"Yes, mail," Sportacus agreed, laughing.

He sat up, surprised, when Robbie kept protesting, and grabbed the paper. He sat still for a moment, watching Robbie stretch and rub at his eyes. Robbie looked over at the clock, too, but didn't ignore it.

"SEVEN?!" he screeched. "You woke up me up at seven in the MORNING?" 

"Shhhh, don't scream, Robbie," Sportacus scolded. "You'll wake the other guests." 

Robbie curled up on the bed, whimpering dramatically.

"You're trying to kill me. Seven. No sane person is awake at seven." 

"Robbie. We need to get going anyways. You better read that quick, in case it's important, then we need to go see that fence you mentioned." 

"I'm not reading it in front of you. It's private." 

Sportacus rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"All right. I'll go get us breakfast and you can read your letter. That will save us time."

"I'm not trusting you to get me food, Sportaloon." 

"I won't try to get you to eat sportscandy, I promise. I'll get you some pancakes and eggs." 

"Real pancakes? With butter and syrup?" Robbie asked, eyes narrowed. 

"Yes, real pancakes!" Sportacus agreed, laughing. 

"Well. All right. But, no fruit toppings! Just pancakes."

"Okay! I'll be back in few minutes." 

Once Sportacus was gone, Robbie opened the paper, reading: 

**Robbie,**

**I'm sick and I'm at the mayor's house. I was just coughing in public and he decided to keep me here. George threw me out of my apartment! I'm stuck eating dirt food. I only get a bit of good food as a reward. I'm supposed to be taking pills, too, but I've managed to palm half of them. **

**Anyway, I'm surrounded by idiots and heroes! You know how that is.**

**I also have a mechanical puzzle for you to help me with. So, get here, okay?**

**Glanni**

Robbie growled in frustration, then rooted around in the nightstands. When he had a pen and paper, he sat down at the table, writing: 

**Glanni,**

**Try to palm as much of the sportscandy as you can. I'll try to help you with George and the apartment. Though, maybe you should move somewhere better? If he's going to be petty over a couple of months back rent, well! I'll also try to get some real food to you.**

**I can't come right now. I'm in a situation. I'll explain later.**

 

"Rotten." 

Robbie looked up, finding another of the city's mob bosses. Gregory Lambert was short and plump and utterly vicious. Two thugs, Rob and Bob, towered near him, a careful two steps behind their boss. Robbie forced himself not to gulp.

"Greg, buddy! How are you?" 

"Not so good, I'm afraid. There are some missing crystals and some stingy lowlife is refusing to share. Can you imagine?" 

Robbie nodded.

"I hear you. I came to town, hoping to get hold of one or two myself."

"Sure, you did," Gregory scoffed, shaking his head. "Robbie Rotten. I _know_ you got the crystals. Don might've fell for your act, or just been put off by that muscle of yours, but not me. Now, you and me are gonna take a walk and talk about being more reasonable." 

"Um. I'd love to get caught up, Greg, but I've sort of made plans..."

"Yeah, I'm canceling them. Fellas."

Rob and Bob stepped forward, grabbing Robbie by the arms. He squeaked, but Greg ignored him. He stepped forward, taking and reading Robbie's letter.

"Hmph. Send it," he ordered Robbie.

"I'm not done writing." 

"It sounds complete enough. No one expects you to be polite. Now, send it!" 

Hesitantly, Robbie reached out and tapped the letter, sending it magically away. He fidgeted. Sportacus should be showing up soon, right? Surely, the crystal would go off for Robbie, when he was helping? When he was being _kidnapped_? He kept hoping, as Greg and his men led him out the door and down into an alley. He didn't start losing hope, until Greg shut his car door on him, concealing Robbie behind tinted windows.


	14. Missing and Sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ípróttálfurrin comes to Glanni's rescue.

Ípróttálfurrin knocked hard on the mayor's door, a bit surprised, when he immediately opened the door, looking surprised.

"Mayor! What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Mikkel asked, bewildered, reaching up to finish knotting his tie. "Nothing, that I know of."

"My crystal went off and showed me Glanni." 

"I-I thought he was still asleep!" 

"Let's check on him!" Ípróttálfurrin commanded, already leading the way. 

Mikkel followed close behind, watching as Ípróttálfurrin opened the door to Glanni's room, looking inside.

"He isn't there," Ípróttálfurrin reported, grimly. "He's in this house, though, or my crystal would show somewhere else."

"Maybe he's in the kitchen?" 

"You look there. Search the first floor. I'll search up here." 

"All right. I can't imagine why he would go up there, but don't forget to check the attic, too." 

"I'll do that!" 

Ípróttálfurrin quickly searched the entire floor, before heading up the attic stairs. Worry and confusion struggled for first place in his thoughts. He could imagine what sort of trouble even _Glanni_ could find in an attic, but the crystal was persistent. For some reason, Glanni was in distress. Fortunately, it didn't take Ípróttálfurrin long to find Glanni in the attic. 

Glanni had brought a blanket with him and was curled up in front of the attic window, shivering. Ípróttálfurrin had to swallow back a rough sound of dismay, that wanted to come from his throat. 

Glanni was weeping. 

It was something Ípróttálfurrin never expected to see and it was terrible. Glanni had his legs pulled up to his chest, with his head resting on his knees. Despite his height, the scheming villain managed to look small and vulnerable, with tears running down his cheeks and his lips trembling. He looked up at Ípróttálfurrin and scowled, but it only made him look even younger.

"I came up here to be alone!" 

"Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin objected, softly, rushing over to him. "I couldn't ignore my crystal going off. What's wrong? Are you hurt?" 

"No, I'm not hurt! How am I supposed to get hurt with you and Mayor Pabbi being such mother hens?" Glanni scoffed, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes.

The gesture allowed Ípróttálfurrin to see the paper crumpled in Glanni's hand. Reaching out slowly, Ípróttálfurrin placed a gentle hand on Glanni's shoulder. 

"Please. Let me help." 

"There's nothing you can do," Glanni said, dully. "He-he isn't...he said he can't..."

"May I read what you have there?" 

Shrugging, Glanni tossed the letter at Ípróttálfurrin, then curled up even tighter, refusing to look at him. He read the letter, frowning.

"Who is this from?"

"Robbie. I wrote him last night, after you left. I found his letter, when I got up to pee."

"Who's Robbie?" 

"Robbie Rotten!" Glanni growled. "My brother? Number one villain in the world?" 

"I know who Robbie Rotten is. I didn't realize you were related," Ípróttálfurrin admitted.

"Way to know your opponent, hero. Don't you talk to Sportacus, _your brother_?" 

"Yes, but I don't think he knows you're related, either," Ípróttálfurrin said, laughing.

"Very observant," Glanni muttered, turning away again. 

"I'll make a deal with you...a magical one."

"What kind of deal?" 

"I'll bring Robbie here, if, in return, you stop palming your medicine and take it as the doctor instructs." 

"Palming?" Glanni asked, trying to sound innocent. 

Ípróttálfurrin rolled his eyes and pulled a small handful of pills from his pockets. Glanni grinned, shrugging.

"I found these in your room, when I was looking for some clue to where you had gone."

"Well, you can't blame me for trying." 

"I can. You _need_ this medicine, Glanni! No wonder you aren't improving." 

Ípróttálfurrin held out his hand and, reluctantly, Glanni shook it.

"Do you really think you can get Robbie to come?" 

"Yes," Ípróttálfurrin promised, standing.

Ípróttálfurrin leaned down and scooped Glanni into his arms, making sure the blanket stayed wrapped around him. Glanni squirmed, but only a bit.

"Why are you carrying me?!" 

"You're not wearing shoes, you're exhausted, and you're going to get cold, wandering around. You'll be warmer, if I keep you inside the blanket." 

Glanni grunted, placing an arm around Ípróttálfurrin's shoulder. Grinning, the hero carried his villain back to bed, annoying him further, by tucking him in. 

"There. I'll tell the mayor you're ready for breakfast." 

"How am I supposed to eat? You have me wrapped up like a burrito." 

"You'll manage," Ípróttálfurrin predicted kindly, walking away.


	15. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ípróttálfurrin keeps his promise and gives Sportacus a hand.

Sportacus ran back to the hotel, as soon as his crystal started flashing. Fortunately, breakfast was safely stored in his backpack. Unfortunately, he arrived too late to help Robbie. The hotel room was already empty, when the hero arrived. Sportacus focused on the crystal and it showed Robbie in a car, moving down unfamiliar streets. Sportacus made a sound of distress, but he had a bearing, at least. The car was moving east. He knew that much. Sportacus headed back for the streets, knowing he'd never reach his airship in time, if Robbie's life was in immediate danger. Running, he headed east, hoping he would reach Robbie, before anything terrible happened. 

Robbie didn't really think Greg was going to harm him. That belief was shaken a bit, when the car stopped at an empty warehouse. Greg's thugs carted him to a floor below ground level. The large storage area was empty, except for some sturdy wooden chairs. Robbie's only comfort was the seeming lack of anything threatening. 

"O-okay. Guys, this doesn't look good," Robbie said, breathing quickly, as the thugs dropped him into the chair. "I really, really don't have those crystals."

"Don't worry, Robbie," Greg assured him. "We ain't gonna hurt you. We know better.   
I'm not stupid enough to tangle with your magic. Besides, you're the type more likely to die of fright, than to confess. Nah. We'll just keep you here, until you give us what we want." 

"Are you going to feed me?" 

"Sure...all the fruits and vegetables you can eat." 

Robbie gagged, feeling a wave of distress.

"Okay, listen, I'll tell you the whole truth," Robbie promised. "I...that guy I was with? He's not my henchman. He's an elf, one of their heroes. I was helping him find the crystals, showing him how to operate in disguise. I thought it would be funny!" 

Greg and the thugs stared at him in amazement for a few moments, then burst into laughter.

"Robbie, ah, you're a gem! That's great, really. I gotta give you credit for imagination."

"It's true!" 

"Aw, c'mon, now. Listen. I might not be a genius, like yourself, but that doesn't mean I'm _stupid_ , okay? No one from town has the crystals, so it's gotta be you. That just makes sense, right?" 

"Ugh, yes, good use of logic," Robbie sulked. "Except, you're still WRONG." 

"I'm patient, when I gotta be, Robbie. We'll just stay right here, until you feel a bit more generous, yeah? Or, until your "hero" shows up to rescue you," Greg added, chuckling.

"Meh meh meh meh _meh_ ," Robbie muttered, glaring resentfully, wishing his magic was more cooperative, when his emotions ran high.

He certainly _hoped_ Sportacus was on his way. That stupid elf owed him for this! What was wrong with that blasted crystal, anyway, ignoring Robbie's troubles? Robbie slumped down in his chair, folding his arms tightly over his chest, glaring straight ahead. Greg sat opposite of him, sipping slowly from a flask. Why didn't Sportacus come lecture _him_ about being healthy? 

Sportacus only knew that Robbie was on the east side of the town. He could see Robbie was in a warehouse, but didn't recognize the street the warehouse was on. The images from the crystal were becoming more confusing, than helpful. Sighing, Sportacus headed back for his airship. He'd have to search street by street, until he found the right building. Traveling on foot would take too long. 

Sportacus was halfway to his airship, when a ladder landed in his path. Looking up, he saw his brother's hot air balloon. Ípróttálfurrin climbed down rapidly, doing a flip towards the bottom and landing in front of Sportacus. 

"Ípróttálfurrin, what are you doing here?" 

"I was passing over, on my way to Lazy Town. My crystal went off, showing Rotten being held prisoner." 

"Can you see where he is? You know more about Mayhem Town than I do. I don't recognize the warehouse or the street!" 

"I know where to find him, yes. Why was he taken?"

"You heard about the stolen crystals? They must think Robbie has them. That or they found out he's been helping me track the crystals down."

"He's helping you?" 

"He thought it would be funny to watch me pretend to be a villain," Sportacus explained, shrugging ruefully. "Why were you going to Lazy Town?" 

"Let's get Rotten out of trouble, then I'll explain. He's only a few miles away." 

"Let's go, then," Sportacus agreed, relieved. 

The brother heroes ran side by side, flipping over obstacles in unison. People walking scurried out of the way, taking shelter in store entrances. Sportacus pole-danced around a lamp post, flinging himself limbly over the heads of two businessmen. They gaped in wonder, as he landed on his feet, darting forward at inhuman speeds. Ípróttálfurrin was right with him, doing full body flips. They arrived at the warehouse in minutes and found it securely locked. 

"Do you know who owns this warehouse?"

"No. Why?"

"That door is between me and Robbie."

"Break it down. The Elders will pay for the damage. As you say, a victim is in there."

Sportacus kicked the door, tearing it partially off its hinges. Ípróttálfurrin almost whistled, but held it back, following Sportacus inside. The quickly found the stairs, going down them quietly. Peeking down into the storeroom, they saw Robbie in a chair. Sportacus clapped his hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh. Robbie's chin was sunk down onto his chest, showing the lazy man was nearly asleep! Two large men were sitting on either side of Robbie, just a few feet away from him. Greg was still in his chair, fidgeting from boredom.

"Rope," Sportacus whispered forcefully.

His backpack released a jump rope into Sportacus' hand. He spun the rope into a lasso and took a deep breath. He quirked his eyebrows at Ípróttálfurrin, then pointed first to himself, then to the left. Ípróttálfurrin, golf balls in hand, nodded, gesturing to himself and the right. Sportacus grinned, then charged down the stairs. He threw the lasso, which flew to Greg, tying him to his chair. 

Rob and Bob stood, shouting in anger, but they were far too slow. Ípróttálfurrin tossed his four golf balls. Two hit Rob and Bob in their wrists, in case they went for weapons. The other two sank into their stomachs, doubling them over. Sportacus used ace bandages and a tug of war rope to bind Rob and Bob to their chairs. 

"For pete's sake, what kind of muscle are you hiring these days, Rotten?" Greg demanded.

"He's not muscle. He's an elf," Robbie snapped, brooding. "Why would muscle bring an elf along? Idiot." 

Sportacus approached Greg and untied him from his chair. Greg started to stand, but Sportacus grabbed his coat lapels, lifting him off the floor.

"Hey! We were just talking!" Greg protested. 

"Sportacus! Put him down!" Robbie demanded. "What has gotten into you?!"

"Did he hurt you?" Sportacus asked, grimly. 

"What? No! I told you: I have defenses. He was just gonna keep me here on a diet of fruits and vegetables. Nothing you don't wish you could get away with."

Sportacus frowned, looking hurt.

"I wouldn't _force_ you to do anything, Robbie. I just want you to be..to feel better."

"I take it you're not pressing charges," Ípróttálfurrin asked.

"Charges?" Robbie squeaked.

"I thought not," Ípróttálfurrin sighed. "Leave. Don't get caught again any time soon."

Sportacus released Rob and Bob, who swiftly followed Greg up the stairs.

"My cover is blown, now," Sportacus said, sighing, almost frustrated.

"It doesn't matter," Robbie assured him. "The usual criminal element doesn't have them. The entire network is convinced _I_ stole them." 

"Did you?" Ípróttálfurrin asked.

"Pssshht, no! I would have sold them by now and all from the comfort and safety of Lazy Town." 

"I'll send a report to the Elders," Sportacus decided. "I guess we can go back to Lazy Town. Others are trying to find out how the crystals were taken."

"Actually, I came to bring Robbie to Latabæ."

"Why?" Robbie asked, wringing his hands together, his nose twitching furiously.

"I made a deal with Glanni that I would bring you, if he stopped palming his medicine."

"What does Glanni Glæpur want with Robbie?"

"Is it _all right_ for my little brother to want company when he's sick?" Robbie bit out.

"He's your brother?!"

Robbie rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth, giving a low growl.

"Yes, they're brothers and his abrupt letter upset Glanni."

"I wasn't done writing, when Greg made me send it!" Robbie complained. "Oh, never mind! Let's just go already."

Robbie stalked to the staircase, hips swinging in his agitation. Shrugging, Ípróttálfurrin and Sportacus followed.

"Robbie and I will go in my airship. We'll meet you in Latabæ."

"Meet me at the mayor's house."

"We'll do that!" Sportacus promised. 

He quickly caught up with Robbie,

"I'm sorry your brother is ill." 

"...thank you?"

"You're welcome, Robbie."

They finished the trip to the airship quietly. As soon as they were onboard, Sportacus disappeared into an alcove, then came out wearing his usual outfit. 

"Ah, the hero returns," Robbie said, glumly. 

"Mm. I think I understand why you love disguises, but it's good to be myself again." 

"You certainly got into your role," Robbie said, disturbed. "Why were you so hard on Don and Greg? You never get that way with me." 

"Robbie," Sportacus sighed, frustrated. He squatted on the floor in front of Robbie, so he could look into his eyes. "Greg? He kidnapped you and took you to an empty warehouse! I told you, I'd never let anyone hurt you. We're enemies, because that's how _you_ want things. If I had my way, we would be friends." 

"Yes, but...that's because you think, if we're friends, then I'll behave! You can't actually like me! You're a hero!" 

"I can and I do," Sportacus corrected him, a bit sternly and more than a bit hurt. "I don't use friendship to manipulate people." 

Robbie shut his mouth with an almost audible click, staring down at Sportacus with wide eyes. Sportacus smiled ruefully, shrugging and standing. 

"I'll tell you, when we reach Latabæ," Sportacus said, gently, going to the cockpit, leaving Robbie staring after him.


	16. Forming Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie visits Glanni, who is growing attached to people, against his better judgment.

Glanni eyed the chessboard from his spot on the sofa. He leaned into the corner, between the arm and the back, that was well-padded with a large, fluffy pillow. Taking his time, Glanni studied the possible moves and counter moves, amazed. If he wasn't careful, Mayor Pabbi could have him in check in four or five moves. Mikkel was waiting patiently, examining the dolls. 

"I still can't believe you don't have any stories about those things," Glanni complained.

"I don't know much about where they came from. That's not the same as not having stories," Mikkel corrected, amused. "When I was very young, I used to pretend they were family. I imagined the gentleman and lady were my parents, while the soldier and girl were my Uncle Emil and Aunt Lilja."

"Wait. Are Uncle Emil and Aunt Lilja brother and sister?"

"Oh, yes, my father's siblings." 

"Were they really born that far apart?"

"Nine years apart, yes, with my father between them." 

"Huh. There's five years between me and Robbie and I thought that was a long time."

"You and Robbie Rotten? You're related?" the mayor asked, surprised.

"How does no one seem to know that?! Yes, he's my older brother. We look almost exactly alike." 

"I've never seen a picture of him and you don't talk much about yourself." 

"I talk about myself all the time." 

"You only talk about your preferences and your schemes and half of that seems made up."

"What's made up?" Glanni demanded, taking his turn.

"Well, your supposed hatred of flowers for one." 

"I do hate flowers!"

"Why would anyone hate flowers?" 

"For the same reason I hate dogs. Everyone acts like they're so AMAZING, but they're dangerous and horrible." 

"Flowers are dangerous?" Mikkel repeated, confused.

"They're all poison."

"What on Earth makes you think that?!" 

"They almost killed Robbie, when I was five."

"Oh, dear. I-I take it he's allergic?"

"Yeah. He tripped and a bit of magic got loose and hit a truck full of them. He ended up half-buried." 

"Are you allergic to them, too?"

"I don't know. I never let the vile things get close enough to find out." 

"Well, yes, it's best to be cautious," Mikkel agreed. "Um. So, did Robbie teach you to play chess?"

"Chess and everything else. If I know it, Robbie taught it to me." 

"Including how to fix things?" 

"Yeah. All of it. Disguises, how to plan a proper scheme, how to make and repair machines. I learned it all from him." 

"Your teachers must have been very impressed." 

"I never had teachers, just Robbie." 

"O-oh. Well. Who taught him?" Mikkel asked, surprised when Glanni frowned in confusion.

"He...taught himself? I guess, he just figured stuff out on his own." 

"If you were homeschooled, your parents must have done some teaching." 

"Mom's a jewel thief. She did teach us how to pick pockets," Glanni said, defensively. "That one I learned from her. She spent most of our childhood in and out of jail, though. Dad's a bigshot. We didn't see much of him, though he wrote on occasion and sent us gifts." 

Mikkel struggled to suppress a wave of what would be very unwanted sympathy. No wonder the boy had no idea how to behave! Glanni, however, seemed undisturbed, idly playing with a chess piece, a small smile curving his lips, then he frowned.

"I still don't have an apartment." 

"Never mind that," Mikkel insisted. "There'll be plenty of time to worry about that once you're completely well. Anyway, it's a blessing in disguise. You're better off here, than alone in some drafty apartment." 

Glanni glanced away, his lips tight, then up again, hunched down.

"Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Mikkel assured him, warmly patting his hand.

Glanni was spared answering, by a sharp knock on the door.

"Oh, let me go get that, then I'll take my turn," Mikkel promised. 

Hurrying to the door, Mikel opened it and stepped back in surprise. The tall man looming in the doorway had to be Glanni's brother. He had similar, saturnine features and sleek, black hair. Mikkel wondered if he was meant to be in disguise. He wore a rather elegant outfit of purple and maroon striped pants and vest, with a long-sleeved, dark blue tunic. He glared down at Mikkel, his arms crossed over his chest, looking proud and stern. Glanni was all dark vibes, leather, and mischief, with the air of an alley cat. This man was far more aristocratic, with an air of possibly stolen authority.

"Hello?" the man asked, his nose twitching.

"Uh, yes. I'm Mikkel Mikkelson. Are you Robbie Rotten?" 

"Yes," Robbie replied, his chin lifting smugly.

"Mayor Mikkelson?" Sportacus said, stepping forward and squeezing in beside Robbie.  
He smiled warmly, holding out his hand. "We've met before." 

"Yes, Sportacus, hello," Mikkel greeted, relieved. "Do come in, both of you. Where's Ípróttálfurrin?"

"He's on his way," Sportacus said, as he and Robbie moved into the house, letting Mikkel shut the door behind them. 

As he spoke, there was another knock on the door. Opening it, Mikkel revealed Ípróttálfurrin who grinned at his brother, moving to stand beside him. Mikkel shut the door, smiling kindly at the small group of visitors.

"You beat me here by moments, little brother. Hello, Mayor!" Ípróttálfurrin greeted.

"Hello, Ípróttálfurrin..."

"May I see my brother now?" Robbie asked, impatiently. 

"Robbie," Sportacus chided, but Mikkel waved him off.

"No, no, it's fine. Of course, he wants to see his brother. Come this way, Mr. Rotten." 

They all followed Mikkel into the living room, though both Sportacus and Ípróttálfurrin gave Robbie disapproving glances. He ignored them both, stalking quickly into the living room, just behind Mikkel. Glanni glanced up, at their entrance, and broke into a wide grin.

"Robbie!" he greeted, then gave Ípróttálfurrin an amazed look. "You actually did it." 

"He didn't do anything!" Robbie scoffed. "I was _going_ to come see you anyway, but Greg kidnapped me and sent my letter, before I could finish it!" 

"Why would Greg kidnap you?" Glanni asked, astonished. 

"Oh, never mind," Robbie said, dismissively. "It's not important. What exactly is wrong that you're taking medicine and letting people feed you sportscandy?" 

Both brothers made faces of absolute disgust, while their mutual heroes rolled their eyes.

"He has pneumonia," Ípróttálfurrin explained. "He needs good food to strengthen him!" 

"Yes, he does," Robbie agreed, smirking. "So! Would you like some cake, Glanni?" 

"I would love some cake," Glanni agreed, eagerly. 

"Of course, you would," Robbie said, fondly.

A towering slice of cake on a china plate appeared in Robbie's hand. Glanni crowed with delight, while Sportacus and Ípróttálfurrin stared at the treat in dismay. Mikkel thought the cake looked delicious, but had to agree with the heroes. 

"That cake is bigger than his head, much less his stomach," Ípróttálfurrin protested. 

"You are seriously underestimating me," Glanni gloated, making grabby hands towards the cake.

Robbie handed Glanni the plate, along with a spoon he pulled from thin air.

"There you go," Robbie crooned, patting Glanni on his head, as the younger villain began shoving cake into his mouth.

"I can't believe the first thing you did was feed him that garbage," Ípróttálfurrin said with angry disgust.

"Really?" Robbie asked, disappointed. "Glanni! Haven't you made it clear how _gross_ fruits and vegetables are?"

"Tried," Glanni said, around a mouthful of food. "He doesn't listen."

"Naturally," Robbie muttered, annoyed.

He turned and began walking around the room. Stopping near the fire, Robbie ran a finger over the mantle, almost disappointed, when it came away clean. Mikkel came up to him, smiling. 

"I promise, we really have been trying to take good care of Glanni. He's had a rough time, being ill." 

Robbie gazed blankly at him for a moment.

"Yes? Um. Thank you. He seems all right."

"The problem is his fever keeps spiking and won't break, though he's been nearly normal at times." 

"Yes, well. He made a deal with the elf to take his medicine." 

"Good, good! The doctor prescribed some stronger pills, when he visited today."

"Eeyuck," Robbie muttered, scowling. "This place isn't bad. He seems comfortable enough."

"Uh, yes. It actually was rather hard of George to throw the poor boy out, when he's feeling so poorly. At least here, though, he has people to help him." 

"Ridiculous of him. Glanni usually pays his bills, even if a tad bit late." 

"A week is a tad bit late," Mikkel scolded. "Glanni was late by two months." 

"Whatever," Robbie said, striding back over to Glanni. 

Glanni had finished eating and was leaning wearily against his pillows.

"You said you had a mechanical puzzle for me," Robbie reminded him. 

"Oh, yeah," Glanni said, yawning. "It's upstairs, in my room." 

"I think that's where you need to be," Robbie said, dryly. "Go on and I'll be up in a bit." 

"I'll take him up," Ípróttálfurrin offered. "He left his shoes and socks up there again."

"It's too much work putting them on to come down here, then taking them off again, before getting under the blankets. AND, you both get grumpy, if I don't cover up." 

"It's winter! You need to stay warm!" Mikkel defended. 

"I know, I know," Glanni admitted, sighing. 

Chuckling, Ípróttálfurrin scooped Glanni up into his arms. Glanni rolled his eyes, arching an eyebrow at him.

"I'm beginning to think you just look for excuses to do this." 

"Really? On the other hand, you make finding reasons to do this rather easy." 

"Just go," Glanni ordered, sulking. 

Ípróttálfurrin obeyed him, heading for the stairs. Glanni told himself it was sheer tiredness that made him rest his head on Ípróttálfurrin's shoulder. Once tucked warmly in bed, Glanni found himself reluctant to have the hero just leave. 

"Um, really, thank you. For bringing Robbie."

"You're welcome," Ípróttálfurrin assured him. 

"You don't like him, do you?"

"I don't know him. He doesn't make the best first impression, to a hero, but then, neither did you."

"I've grown on you," Glanni boasted, hiding uncertainty behind a bright smile. 

"Yes, you have," Ípróttálfurrin agreed, sitting beside him. 

"You don't approve of me, though," Glanni mused. 

"I don't approve of your schemes. That's not the same as disapproving of you. I just wish you would do something honest and, for your own sake, eat healthier foods. Granted, it took you getting pneumonia to let me see it, but I've always suspected there was more to you than villainy and contempt for vegetables."

"Right, I tell horrible stories," Glanni added, amused. 

"You really want me to flatter you, don't you?" Ípróttálfurrin said, chuckling. "All right. You're creative, talented, charming, when you want to be, intelligent, and very handsome." 

"Calling it flattery implies you don't mean it," Glanni challenged.

"I mean it," Ípróttálfurrin assured him. "You're beautiful." 

Glanni was mortified to find himself blushing a bit. Waggling his eyebrows, he smirked, then leaned forward, placing a brief, soft kill on Ípróttálfurrin's lips. 

"You're not bad, yourself. You're sarcastic and stubborn and a bit mean. I'm not supposed to, but I like you." 

"Good," Ípróttálfurrin said, drawing him into a longer kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. We are officially into WIP territory. I've got a good start going on the next chapter, but I'm going camping this weekend, so it might be a bit of time, before I update. I don't know how many chapters I have left. Probably two more plus epilogues? lol Hopefully, the rest won't take too long to write. Thank you to all of you for coming along on this ride. :D


	17. Complex Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers chat and more kisses happen.

Robbie watched Ípróttálfurrin carry Glanni upstairs, then sat down on the couch, where Glanni had been. He frowned, twiddling his fingers, as he stared at the coffee table. His eyes went back and forth from the chessboard t0 the remains of Glanni's cake.

"Robbie? Are you all right?" Sportacus asked, worried by Robbie's almost dismayed look. 

"He didn't finish his cake," Robbie said sadly.

"Well, it was a very large piece of cake," Sportacus reasoned gently.

"Not for us!" Robbie protested. "He's never not...he's always finished his cake! Ever since he had teeth!"

"Well, maybe he had something to eat earlier." 

"Possible," Robbie said, grudgingly. "He did say in his letter that he was given sweets, if he ate sportscandy. Gyuck! Still. I didn't expect him to be _this_ sick. He's paler than usual. I mean, we're pretty pale to begin with, very fair-skinned, but..."

"Robbie. He is sick, but he'll be fine. Now that he'll be taking his medicine, stronger medicine, he should start to improve." 

"You should listen to Sportacus," Mikkel urged, reminding the other men of his presence. 

"Optimists," Robbie grumbled, leaning back with his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

"Well. Will you be sharing Glanni's room or-or have you made other arrangements?" Mikkel asked, glancing uncertainly at Sportacus.

"I'll be staying with my brother," Robbie snapped. "I'm not sleeping in Sportaflop's deathtrap."

"Of course," Mikkel soothed. "His room is at the top of the stairs, on the right. Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to do some cleaning up." 

Mikkel left and Sportacus perched on the seat beside Robbie. Robbie sighed, his shoulder's slumping.

"Um, Sportakook...thank you. I mean, I didn't _need_ you to protect me, but you were trying...look. I just want you to know it's okay. Nothing is going to happen."

"How can you be so sure? Robbie, Greg looked fairly in charge, when I rescued you."

"I didn't need you to rescue me," Robbie insisted. "I'd've been fine, as soon as he realized I don't have the crystals."

"If you can't prevent him taking you and you can't escape, what leverage do you have?"

"Revenge! He knew if he hurt me or caused me too much inconvenience I'd make him pay later." 

"What if he made sure you didn't have a later?" Sportacus asked, soft and sad.

Robbie startled him by laughing. 

"Aw, Sporty, you jittery, jumpy elf! You're forgetting Glanni. He's sick right now, but don't underestimate him. They know he'd come after them." 

"All right, Robbie," Sportacus sighed, grateful they would soon be safely back in Lazytown. "And, thank you. I don't know, if you got the laugh you wanted, but you helped me a lot." 

"You're welcome. Trying to find them was...interesting. I want to know who took them!" 

"Me too. I guess, at worst, we'll find out, when the thief tries to use them or sell them." 

"Yeah. They're probably just waiting for things to settle down," Robbie said, sighing.

"I suppose so," Sportacus agreed. "We worked well together. It's too bad we can't do that more often."

"It would require us having a common goal," Robbie said, dryly, shrugging. 

"True. Robbie. Why do you always say no, when the kids want you to play with them?"

"The only thing the brats do anymore is run around and play sports and I'm not playing sports. Not with you, them, or anyone else," Robbie growled. 

"Ah. What if we found an activity we all could enjoy?" 

"HA! Sure, Sportakook. You do that and I'll join in," Robbie promised, amused. "Good luck." 

Sportacus grinned.

"I have fairly good luck, most of the time." 

"Uh, huh. Well. I'll leave you to that. I'm going to see Glanni and get to bed." 

"Good night, Robbie."

"Good night, Sportafloppy." 

Robbie made his way up the stairs and quietly opened Glanni's door. Amused, he leaned against the doorframe, watching his little brother hungrily kissing his own flip-floppy elf. Putting on a mock look of stern disgust, Robbie cleared his throat.

"If you two are _quite_ finished," Robbie drawled, startling them apart.

Glanni frowned, crossing his arms over his chest in a sulk while Ípróttálfurrin gave a cough of his own, embarrassed. 

"Ah, yes! I'll--I should go, so you can talk," Ípróttálfurrin stammered, which Glanni found dismayingly endearing. Ípróttálfurrin gently pressed the back of his fingers to Glanni's cheek "Good night." 

"Good night," Glanni said simply, eyes wide. 

Chuckling, Robbie moved into the room, making space for Ípróttálfurrin to leave. Once he was gone, Robbie walked over and hopped into the bed. 

"So. Mechanical puzzle?" 

"Yes...NO! Wait," Glanni said, reaching down and pulling Sindri's bag out from his mattress. "Check these out. I took those off the Glaumbær gang. They accidentally swiped them from some elves, of all things!"

Stunned, Robbie opened the bag and shook the contents out into his hand. Five elvish crystals gleamed at him. 

"Your gang of thugs..." Robbie began, then shoved his hands over his mouth, muting his long, high-pitched growl of frustration. "They had them?! What do you mean accidentally?!" 

Glanni reared back in surprise, shrugging helplessly.

"They hitched a ride and Sindri confused that bag with his bag of marbles. Why? What are they?" 

"Haven't you noticed the crystal on your boyfriend's hat?" Robbie scolded. 

"I spend as little time as possible looking at his hat," Glanni retorted. 

"Well, it has a crystal on it, just like one of these. Sportacus wears one on his chest plate. They tell them, when someone is in trouble. That's why we were in Mayhem Town! I was helping Sportacus look for these missing crystals." 

"Huh. Why would you do that?" Glanni asked, confused. 

"He wanted to go undercover and I'm an expert in disguise. You know I can't resist disguise time. Anyways, once we got there, it was interesting, trying to find out who had taken them! Now, I know why we didn't succeed." 

"Does this have anything to do with Greg kidnapping you?"

"Yes. The entire criminal underworld is convinced _I_ have the crystals."

"Well, to be fair, you kinda do, now." 

"Yes and now we have to decide what we're going to _do_ about it," Robbie grumbled. 

"If we sell the crystals, Greg and them will think you had them all along," Glanni said, scowling.

"Not to mention, if _you're_ caught _here_ with them...well."

"I never said I would reform," Glanni protested weakly, fidgeting.

"No, but...in the mayor's own _house_...he might take that a bit personally."

"Or get blamed himself. I don't want to get Mayor Pabbi in trouble," Glanni admitted. "I don't want Ípróttálfurrin mad at me so soon either." 

"The elves," Robbie agreed, sighing. 

"I'm letting him get to me," Glanni complained. "I'm going soft." 

"Nonsense!" Robbie corrected, sternly "Good villainy is about the freedom to make yourself happy. If you want the blasted elf, then having him is villainous." 

"Okay, but, if we're going to, HOW are we going to return the crystals?"

"Well, I, uh..." Robbie broke off with a sigh. "I don't KNOW. We'll figure that out tomorrow. Right now, show me that puzzle of yours, then we'll get some sleep." 

Glanni tucked the crystals back under his mattress, then showed Robbie the broken dolls. Robbie cooed over them, to Glanni's satisfaction.

"Well, you've certainly done a good job, so far," Robbie praised, patting Glanni's shoulder. "We'll have these beauties running again in no time." 

Glanni yawned, nodding. 

"Tomorrow, though, right, Robbie?" 

"Yes. Today has been _exhausting_ ," he agreed.

Snapping his fingers, Robbie switched his and Glanni's clothes into pajamas. They crawled under the blankets. 

"What do you think _they're_ doing?" Glanni asked, frowning lightly.

"Wondering what we're up to, probably," Robbie suggested, making Glanni giggle. 

In fact, Ípróttálfurrin hardly made it down the stairs, before he and Sportacus began discussing their villains. Sportacus was surprised to see Ípróttálfurrin looking a bit disturbed, chewing on the side of his lip.

"What's wrong?" 

"I've lost control of my feelings," Ípróttálfurrin admitted. "I just kissed Glanni." 

"Ah." 

"That's all you're going to say?" 

Sportacus smiled gently, noting the hurt, yet relieved, tone in his brother's voice.

"Did you expect me to judge you? To rail at you?"

"It's hardly heroic to fall in love with a villain."

"No? You look at Glanni and see more than a villain. You see a person. How many would be able to do that? I can't believe that makes you less of a hero." 

"You seem very sure." 

"No, not really. I'm trying to convince myself, as much as you." 

"You like Robbie."

"Yes. I liked him almost immediately, once we met. Then, I slowly fell in love with him."

"Does he know?"

"No," Sportacus said, laughing. "We do seem to have reached a new level of civility."

"What do we do, though, once Glanni is well and you and Robbie go back to Lazy Town?" 

"You said you kissed Glanni. If he kissed you back, he must like you, at least a little. I admit, I don't know what to do about Robbie. I never have. I annoy him, more often than not." 

"You've always said he's lazy, but he went to Mayhem town with you. He tried to help you. He must like you, at least a little," Ípróttálfurrin teased.

"Yes, but how do I get him to stop feeding me sugar apples and blowing me out of cannons long enough for us to go on a date?"

"Well, the apples are a problem, but, from one of them, the rest could almost be considered a date." 

Sportacus laughed, nodding. He and Ípróttálfurrin stood and cleaned up the living room. No matter how many trash cans were in the area, Glanni still managed to fill it with used tissues and other garbage. Ípróttálfurrin threw the tissues away, while Sportacus put the chess board up. Straightening the pillows, Ípróttálfurrin sat down on the couch. 

"The mayor's going to have his hands full, with both of them here. I wonder if they're asleep yet." 

"They're probably up there plotting against us, right now." 

"Yes, they might be," Sportacus agreed, laughing. "We need to be in bed soon. We should probably check on them before we leave." 

They quietly went upstairs, before opening Glanni's door. Standing in the doorway, they saw Robbie and Glanni curled up together, both of them sucking their thumbs. The blankets had fallen from them, puddling around their waists and draping to the floor.

"They're beautiful," Ípróttálfurrin observed, somewhere between tenderness and dismay.

"We should let them sleep. You go ahead. I'll tuck them in and follow you." 

"All right. Sleep well."

"You, too, Ípróttálfurrin."

Sportacus slipped silently into the room. Carefully, he straightened the blankets, pulling them up to Robbie's and Glanni's shoulders. Despite Sortacus' care, Robbie stirred, his eyes opening a bit. 

"Spor'fl'p?"

"Sh, go back to sleep," Sportacus whispered. "It's all right." 

Robbie grumbled wordlessly, his eyes sling shut. Unable to resist, Sportacus leaned down, kissing Robbie's forehead. Robbie's eyes flew open, but he didn't pull away. Reaching up, he grabbed Sportacus' vest and pulled him down the few inches necessary for their lips to meet. Surprised as he was, Sportacus eagerly returned the kiss.

"Sportacus and Robbie, sitting in a tree," Glanni sing-songed sleepily, "K-I-S-S-I-N-G..."

"You better be quiet and go back to sleep, brat!" Robbie ordered harshly.

Sportacus almost protested the hard words but GLanni just gave a cackling laugh, which changed quickly into very fake snoring. The obnoxious buzzing was punctuated by tiny smooching noises. Robbie rolled his eyes, even managing to slump even further in defeat. Sportacus chuckled, pulling away, while gently caressing Robbie's lower neck and shoulder.

"Good night, Robbie." 

"Well, it almost was, anyways," Robbie complained, elbowing Glanni. "Sleep well, Sportakook." 

"Good ni-ight, Sportacus," Glanni sang, smugly.

"Good night, Glanni," Sportacus answered dryly.

Sportacus left, closing the door. Once it was shut, a series of thumps and thrashing noises emerged from the room. Sportacus laughed to himself, running off to join his own brother.


	18. Crystal Solution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone wants the crystals. Everyone underestimates Robbie and Glanni.

Robbie and Glanni woke up almost simultaneously. Robbie sat up abruptly, pulling the blankets up around his chest, while Glanni rolled to the floor. Glanni peeked under the bed, finding the space empty. He reached under the mattress, pulling out the bag of crystals. Crawling under the bed, he examined the floor for feet, but no one else was in the room. 

"Glanni?" Robbie whispered. 

"Here," Glanni said, a bit louder, handing Robbie the bag.

Robbie took the bag, then used magic to change into day clothes. He stuffed the bag into his well-concealed pockets.

"Where do you think they are?"

"Downstairs," Robbie said. "Go check on the mayor. I'll find out who it is."

"Okay."

Robbie teleported downstairs to the kitchen, relieved to find it empty. He made sure the hall was clear, then sneaked to the living room. He peered inside and found Rob and Bob searching the room, quietly, but messily. Robbie prepared to march in and confront them, but was stopped by a meaty hand landing on the back of his neck, making him squeak.

"Hey, Robbie," Rafe said, happily. "Greg said we'd find you here, so Don sent us to have a chat."

"Oh? What does he want?" Robbie asked snidely.

"Aw, now, don't be like that," Sam coaxed, standing next to Rafe. "You give us just two of those crystals and we'll call it even." 

"Yes, well, I _would_..." Robbie began.

"No, man, you _will_ ," Rafe interrupted, squeezing down on Robbie's neck. "Our bosses insist."

"See, things are so much easier, when you don't have a boss," Robbie explained, snapping his fingers.

Immediately, Rafe and Sam's skin began to crawl and they writhed around, as the crawling intensified to itching. They shouted and whimpered. 

"Hey, man! Knock it off!" 

"Mm, no. Sorry." 

Robbie snickered, then turned and headed back upstairs, only to find Glanni and the mayor coming down the steps.

"Who is it?" Glanni asked.

"Don and Greg's boys," Robbie said.

"What's our plan?" 

"Mayor, we're going to sneak you out, so you can go get Sporty and Ípróttálfurrin. I'm not waiting for their crystals to go off."

"Then?" Glanni persisted, frowning.

"Well, Rafe and Sam are busy itching away. We just have to deal with Rob and Bob." 

"Right. So, how are we getting Mayor Pabbi out?"

"Is there something wrong with the front door?" Robbie asked, sighing deeply.

"NO," Glanni said defensively. 

"Good. Let's go," Robbie demanded, heading back down the stairs. 

Glanni followed, with Mikkelson trailing behind them. Bob came out of the living room, heading directly at Mikkelson. Rob came out after him, circling to get behind Robbie.   
Vaulting the stairs' handrail, Bob crashed into Mikkelson, wrapping an arm around his throat. 

"Well, so much for that," Robbie said, grumpily. "Where are those _elves_? Haven't their stupid crystals gone off YET?" 

"As a matter of fact, they have," Sportacus answered, appearing with Ípróttálfurrin at the top of the stairs. 

"Let go of my pabbi!" Glanni demanded of Bob, with an angry growl. 

"Your Pabbi?!" Rob asked astonished. 

"Mayor!" Glanni corrected. "I said _Mayor Pabbi_!" 

"Uh. You really didn't," Robbie told him, shrugging. 

"Shut up!" Glanni insisted. 

"Either way, I agree with Glanni," Ípróttálfurrin said coldly. "You need to release the mayor." 

"You may have noticed you're out-numbered," Glanni said smugly.

"The mayor doesn't count. He's a weak old man," Rob boasted, earning another low growl from Glanni. "So, that's four against four." 

"Sam and Rafe are a bit occupied," Robbie said, laughing meanly. 

"Not that occupied," Sam corrected, coming out of the kitchen with Rafe. They were both covered in a paste of baking soda. "You're gonna pay for that." 

Sportacus ran down a couple of stairs, then leaped into the air, flipping over Robbie and Glanni's heads, before landing between them and Greg's boys. He grinned at them.

"That looks painful," he said kindly. "You know, you can make some very good ointments from certain types of sportscandy."

Rafe and Sam exchanged uneasy glances.

"You can't do anything to us!" Sam boasted. "We've got the mayor." 

"You meh meh us, we meh meh the MAYOR!" Robbie mocked. 

Glanni began humming a low, sinister melody, rubbing his hands together. Smoke appeared between his palms, spreading from himself to Mikkelson and Bob. They were quickly enveloped in a thick field of sparkling gray smoke, shot through with bits of lavender. 

"Hey!" Bob shouted, releasing Mikkelson to rub at his eyes. 

Ípróttálfurrin leaped into the middle of the fog, easily lifting the mayor and springing back with him to the top of the stairs. Glanni let out a sigh of relief, seeing him safe. Pulling a wand, with a star on top, out of his pocket, Robbi began chanting. He pointed the wand at Rob and Bob, then at Sam and Rafe. All four men gave terrific yawns, then sank to the floor in a deep sleep. 

"Robbie," Sportacus scolded gently, but unable to hide his amusement.

"Well, I had to do something, Sportadoofus. Anyway, you can haul them off now."

"Who are these men?" Mikkel asked. "What did they want?"

Robbie and Glanni exchanged glances, then sighed. Robbie pulled the crystals' bag from his pocket, but cradled it against his chest.

"I want it on the record that, until tonight, I didn't know _where_ these were and Glanni didn't know _what_ these were," he announced.

"What have you done?" Sportacus asked, sadly. 

Robbie gave the bag to Sportacus, who opened it and sighed. He took out a crystal and showed it to Ípróttálfurrin. 

"How do we know you didn't have them all along?" Ípróttálfurrin demanded.

"Because, if I had, I'd be bragging about it and laughing at you," Robbie said, defiantly.

"That's true," Sportacus agreed, dryly. 

"The Glaumbær gang accidentally grabbed them, then brought them to _me_ ," Glanni explained. "I mean, I knew they were magic, so I was going to wait, until I was well, and figure out what to do with them."

He turned and glared sullenly at Ípróttálfurrin.

"It's what I know, what I do! Anyways, I have to take care of my men. They're too stupid to take care of themselves." 

"Yes, I know," Ípróttálfurrin said, with a sigh. 

"It's actually a pretty funny story, if you're amused by idiocy," Robbie mused, shrugging. "Anyways, you have the crystals now." 

Sportacus gave a soft chuckle. 

"Honestly, I've forgiven worse." 

"There wasn't any real harm done," Mikkelson agreed, not forgetting Glanni's defense of him or the warmth he'd felt, when Glanni called him pabbi. 

"All right," Ípróttálfurrin agreed, shaking his head, fondly. 

"Are you okay, Mayor Pabbi?" Glanni asked. "Bob can be pretty rough." 

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, dear boy!" Mikkel assured him. 

"Uh. I'm..." Glanni started, then swallowed hard, trying to force unfamiliar words from his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring you trouble. I mean, I _am_ trouble, of course, but..."

"Glanni!" Mikkelson interrupted, scolding. "You are far more than just that. You know, in many ways, you're an amazing, young man."

"Usually, only Robbie thinks that," Glanni said, bewildered, but Mikkelson shook his head.

"That's just not true, Glanni. You're an important part of Latabær. I'm sure, if you think about it, you'll agree. For now, though," Mikkelson said, almost playfully stern, "it is well past time for you to be in bed. Go on, now! I'm sure Robbie will join you shortly." 

Glanni turned and saw Robbie and Sportacus sharing a deep, slow kiss. 

"I wouldn't be too sure," he told Mikkelson, dryly, then yawned, sending a shiver down his back. "Bed does sound nice, though." 

Ípróttálfurrin came up beside Glanni, sweeping him into his arms.

"Again?!" 

"As often as I can get away with it," Ípróttálfurrin assured him.

"It's about time you admitted that," Glanni scolded, snuggling into Ípróttálfurrin's shoulder, drifting off to sleep, as he was carried to bed.


	19. Epilogue 1: A Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glanni is never as gone, as you think he is.

Mikkelson walked through his quiet home. He'd just finished the last of the cleaning. It saddened him. Every trace of Glanni was gone now. He had healed and Robbie had helped him find a new apartment. Well, Mikkelson had one task left. His now-repaired dolls needed to be placed back in their cabinet. He took them into his study and found the cabinet open. A folded piece of paper rested on the shelf. Opening it, Mikkelson read the short note Glanni had left him.

**Dear Mayor Pabbi,**

**Please be careful about taking criminals into your home. Robbie taught me to be a _classy_ villain and I'm not stupid enough to bite the hand feeding me. Most other criminals can't say the same. Be well. **

**G.G.**


	20. The Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Villain's Digest interviews Sportacus, just as Robbie predicted.

Good news, villainous readers! I, Gigi Lapointe, have secured an interview with the famous hero of Lazy Town, Sportacus. Below, is the juicy interview, where we discuss Robbie Rotten, crystals, and going undercover. Here is your chance to read a first hand account of Sportacus' adventure on the other side of the tracks, his blossoming romance with Villain number one, Robbie Rotten, and, **best of all** the moments Sportacus has come closest to being truly **villainous**! Enjoy and if you're drinking, well, you might set that down for a few minutes. 

G.L: Now, we know how you got involved with the search for the elven crystals. You're a hero in a small town and not well-known in Mayhem Town. So, you were sent undercover to help retrieve the stolen crystals. _Magic crystals_. Right?

S: Yes. My brother, Ípróttálfurrin, usually assists in Mayhem Town, but he's familiar to many of the criminals there, too much so to go undercover.

G.L: Yes! So, you needed to be able to act like a villain. Did you have _any_ experience with villainy? Any previous undercover work? A dark chapter in your youth?

S: Ha, no! Nothing like that. All I knew of villainy was from my efforts to stop it. I knew, if I was going to succeed, I was going to need some help.

G.L: So. What _inspired_ you, being so squeaky clean, to turn to Robbie Rotten?

S: Well. Who better to teach villainy, than a villain? Robbie has some amazing abilities.

G.L: Are you ever intimidated? He is villain number one. 

S: No! I can't afford to let villains do that to me. Besides, I train, I eat right, and I have help from my friends.

G.L: Such confidence! You don't ever feel like a mouse underneath a cat's paws? I mean, between Robbie's magic abilities and his inventions, surely defeat is looming over you.

S: Well. Robbie certainly does like to play and he can play a bit rough at times. **laughs** But, thinking I could be defeated will only make it happen. 

G.L: Or happen sooner.

S: Maybe. I admit it didn't take him so long to drive off my predecessor.

G.L: Yeesssss. We'll address that later. For now, let's focus on your time as a villain. Did you fall easily into the role?

S: I did, but that's thanks to Robbie. He created a persona for me and I just needed to follow his lead.

G.L: I suppose indulging in villainy could be distasteful for a hero. What gave you your worst moment?

S: Letting someone's wallet be stolen. I had to maintain my cover, but...I still feel guilty.

G.L: Even now?!

S: Yes.

G.L: Amazing. So. Was there any moment, when you were tempted? We all have evil somewhere in us. Did yours ever come out to play? 

S: I...yes. Yes, it did.

G.L: Fabulous! Tell us all about it. 

S: It...was the moments when Dan and Greg threatened Robbie. I wanted to protect Robbie. That might sound heroic to you, but it wasn't. I was angry that they threatened him and...I felt a rush stopping them. I gloated, inside, knowing I was stronger than they are. I wanted to punish them. For a hero, that is terrible! I actually hurt poor Don's arm.

G.L: Did you feel...possessive, perhaps? 

S: Maybe. I don't think so. After all, Robbie and I weren't even really friends, then.

G.L: Well, not officially, not then, but rumor has it you are far more than friends now!

S: **laughs** Yes, we are. As I said, Robbie is pretty amazing.

G.L: But, apparently, romance had been simmering between you for some time. As you pointed out, he got rid of your predecessor fairly quickly. With you, he seems to have, hm, lingered, you might say. 

S: Well, you would have to ask Robbie to know if that is true. I'd like to think it is, but that might be my affection for him coloring things. 

G.L: It might. So, how do you balance his villainy and your heroism?

S: I'm not sure that we do. We just be ourselves. Of course, I have to stop ay schemes and protect Lazy Town, but I don't take any of his games personally. He accepts that about me.

G.L: So, he really is taking it easy on you, then? 

S: I suppose so, yes. He hasn't fed me any sugar apples, lately.

G.L: A romantic gesture! Well, we at Villain's Digest certainly wish you both the best and worst of luck! 

S: **smiling brightly** Thank you!


	21. Night Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikkelson is in trouble or so it might seem.

Mikkelson sat in the dark, tied to his dining room chair, and considered his life. Oh, he knew he was a good man or, at least, tried to be. The town he ran thrived under his hopefully kind leadership. He harmed no one and asked only not to be harmed in return.

He was not, however, a _lucky_ man. No. He really couldn't claim that at all. He'd encountered difficulties and quirks of fate he was certain other mayors didn't. He was fairly sure he couldn't even consider himself a _normal_ man. Not only his difficulties, but his enemies and friends could only be considered extraordinary.

One example was the shadow currently emerging from the corner. A sharp knife glinted in tandem with equally sharp teeth. What normal man would find that comforting? Mikkelson did, though, knowing he was safe, now. Glanni knelt in front of him, smirking.

"Pabbi, how do you end up like this?" 

"Well, this time, it's because thieves are ransacking the house. Just ordinary thieves. I didn't recognize them, though." 

"The Liar Town gang had the nerve to come here," Glanni explained, as he finished cutting Mikkelson's bonds. "Stay here all right? Ípróttálfurrin's already on his way." 

"Glanni," Mikkelson cautioned, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Be careful. They're armed to the teeth."

"That's okay," Glanni said, cheerfully. "You'd be surprised what a clever man can conceal in hidden pockets." 

"I'm not a clever man and I don't want to know." 

Glanni stood, laughing, then hunched his shoulders in surprise, as a loud crash reverberated through the room.

"Hm, Ípróttálfurrin is here. Good night, Pabbi. We'll get rid of them for you." 

"Good night, my boy." 

Glanni left, whistling. Shaking his head in amusement, Mikkelson put his chair back at the table, then went to throw away the sections of rope. He made a note to check in the morning to see which town the Liar Town gang was wanted in most.


End file.
